Cain & Abel: Service in His Shadow
by Mike Stormm
Summary: Commissar Ariel Abel didn't want much in life, just to do her job and be noticed for her hard labour. Too bad her career is about to be overshadowed by the enormous, and fraudulent, reputation of Hero of the Imperium, Commissar Ciaphas Cain.
1. ONE

**Service In His Shadow**

**-Ariel Abel**

_"Like any newly-commissioned young commissar I faced my first assignment with an eagerness mixed with trepidation. I was, after all, the visible embodiment of the will of the Emperor Himself; and I could scarce suppress the tiny voice which bade me wonder if, when tested, I would truly prove worthy of the trust bestowed upon me. When the test came at last, in the blood and glory of the battlefield, I had my answer; and my life changed forever."_

-Ciaphas Cain, 'To Serve the Emperor: A Commissar's Life'

**ONE**

I must admit, at first, that the thought of scripting my own memoirs had not crossed my mind until I casually glanced through the pages of the autobiography belonging to my long-time colleague, and Hero of the Imperium, Commissar Cain. These days, it seems as though every guardsman, commissar, and officer who manages to reach retirement with enough of their brain still functioning to string a few coherent sentences together invariably throws together a story and calls it their memoir or autobiography. I never really thought my military exploits were enough of a story to be worthy of telling. Mostly, I think I simply feared they would be overlooked. However, looking back on nearly a century of gallivanting around the galaxy stomping on the heads of heretics, xenos, and unholy terrors alike, I realized there is probably some sort of lesson that could be learned from it all. Somewhere in all the bloody warfare, profanity-inducing horror, closes brushes with the hand of death, and near-blasphemous deeds that made up the clusterfrak that was my career, there is something that can be passed onto the next generation of men and women that somehow make it all seem worthwhile. Damned if I can figure out what it is though.

Maybe those guys at the medicae temple really can do wonders and breathe life back into the dead.

Like any commissar, I have seen my fair share of action and I would definitely say it was an honour to spend so many years serving alongside one of the greatest heroes ever to have blessed the Imperium with his service. If I had to do things over again, I probably would have done it all exactly the same…and probably would have made all the same mistakes. Except perhaps insisting on wearing body armour on a more regular basis.

Reflecting on Cain's words, though, I can certainly say they rang true for me on my first real assignment in service to the Emperor. As a commissar you are generally not allowed to show any sign of uncertainty or doubt. It was a luxury we could never afford and uncertainty would undermine everything we were duty-bound to enact. But when I stepped aboard the Emperor's Beneficence with my first attachment to a front-line Guard regiment, I was so nervous that I was half-tempted to jump back into the shuttle and ride it all the way back to headquarters. Of course, it wasn't a real option to me at the time. I had no desire to wind up standing in front of firing squad or spending the rest of my days trudging through the fields in a Penal legion so I fought down every urge to flee and faced my new assignment with the steely determination that the people of Krieg are known throughout the Imperium for possessing.

As a commissar, there were two things in the galaxy you can always count upon. The first is you were going to piss off a lot of people. Most of whom will be the people you are working alongside and you hope they don't suddenly re-evaluate the worth of your continued existence. Despite this knowledge, I still couldn't help but be surprised when I stared down death, not in the face of the Ruinous Powers or a blasted xeno but the murderous gaze of one of my own troopers. The second is no matter what, you are never a welcome sight, unless perhaps you are the rare exception; some damned hero who has received all the credits and accolades of liberating an entire world all without seemingly breaking into a sweat. Suffice to say, I was not one of those people. My early years of service as a full-fledged commissar saw me sitting behind a desk shuffling datapads as the powers that be declared this was the role that I was most suited for. That was until some bloody fool decided I had some sort of damned potential and felt that it would be in my best interest to go out and foster that potential under the guidance of a real hero.

Between the dozens of scars and augmetics I've collected from each and every campaign and the rude experience each one taught me, I'm still undecided as to whether it was all really worth it. Did my service alongside the great Hero of the Imperium really make a difference or did I just ride his enormous coattail for so many years and the outcome would have been same whether I was present or not?

I guess I'll just have to leave that up to the Emperor's Divine Will…and whoever's reading this.

As customary with any newly arrived commissar, I was met in the hangar bays of the massive troop carrier by the senior officers of my newly assigned regiment. Though there scores of troops and officers milling around us as people and cargo were offloaded in a hurry that I had not seen without a forecast of mycetic spores. Within seconds of meeting them I was glad I had spent my hours in transit reading over my briefing slate, otherwise I probably would have mistook the executive officer for the commanding officer. The first to shake my hand was Colonel Regina Kasteen, who looked awfully young for a regimental commander. Clear blue eyes met my own gaze as we greeted, exchanging names and pleasantries that I felt were half-cooked and fully expected. I could certainly see why some of my colleagues were envious that I would get to work alongside her – unlike most regimental leaders she was definitely easy on the eyes (if redheads were your thing) and probably a decade younger and thirty pounds lighter than most others.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Commissar Abel," were Kasteen's first words to me, followed by a prompt salute and a brief handshake.

"Pleasure is all mine Colonel," I said curtly, wondering all the while just how pleased she really was. If she was being insincere, she did a good job at hiding it. From what I had read and heard, the 597th Valhallans had it made when it came to commissars, in that they only had the one and he was a man reputed to be fair and even-handed when dealing with the troops. Heck, he was probably the only commissar that was generally loved by those he worked with. If I had half the respect he had from his troops, I probably would have at least two or three fewer scars on me. No, make that four. As to be expected, the arrival of a second commissar threatened that cozy relationship and likely scared most troops into wondering if their honeymoon with the disciplinary process was finally over. Just how good they had things I was yet to discover but I would soon realize that I would have a great of work ahead of me if I were to integrate myself into this unit as an effective member. Otherwise, I had little to look forward to other than looking over my shoulder every other minute. Worst-case scenario, though, I would do what I had done so well for the past few years and hide myself in a small office out of the way and did everything I could to make sure I didn't step on a single toe before finding a convenient excuse to get myself transferred back to my old position. At that time, I was no glory seeker; I simply wanted to do my job and get credit when credit was due. The Emperor, though, seems to have a wicked sense of humour.

The second person I was greeted to was Kasteen's second-in-command, a Major Ruput Broklaw. He bore a rather strong resemblance to my father, or at least my last memories of him, with a stern, steel-hue gaze framed by a mop of black hair. His stoic visage was likely built over years of battlefield experience, which meant getting on his good side meant overcoming centuries of ingrained preconceptions of the commissariat and the understandable belief that no regiment would be so lucky as to get two even-handed commissars. As we shook hands, I couldn't help but notice that his calm expression had shifted with a slight emergence of a smirk at the corner of his lip. It took a moment for me to realize just why he seemed so pleased when I noticed that I was starting to lose some sensation in the tips of my fingers.

Golden Throne! The man had a grip like an Astartes, which didn't help that my small hand fit rather tightly into the depths of his palm. He was no doubt enjoying the look on my face as I tried desperately to maintain my composure. Kasteen must've been fully aware of her major's tendencies, as she subtly nudged him before he finally released me. I wondered if Cain had a similar greeting when he first joined.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance too," I replied to Broklaw, tucking my wounded hand behind my back so I flex some feeling back into it without losing too much face.

As a few servitors were directed to take my kit to my assigned quarters, I was quickly introduced to a few other officers within the regiment, various young but hardened faces of experienced veterans of numerous campaigns. From what I had been told, the 597th were formed from the surviving elements of the 296th and 301st after they were almost wiped out by Tyranids. If one could find a silver lining to that disaster, it was that it meant most of the troopers in the regiment had passed a trial that most other units would have folded in a heartbeat. The officers exchanged curt greetings with me, none of them too interested in getting a feel for who I was, likely figuring there would be plenty of time for that in the months to come before we reached our destination. All of them had the same air of concealed reluctance in their voice but at least their professionalism prevented them from making it obvious, so I was grateful for that.

What I had noticed right from start, when I first deduced that the cabal of officers waiting with feigned patience were the men and women I was to serve with, was that there was a distinct absence of the black and red of the other commissar I had expected to meet. In all honesty, I had not really been looking forward to meeting the legendary Commissar Ciaphas Cain. Despite the stories that he was an amicable man with a fair and just approach to his job, I could not squelch the doubting voice in my mind that some of these stories were a bit embellished and he would take one long look at me and question why in the warp I was being attached to a front line unit.

In fact, judging by the slightly quizzical expression on some of the officers who greeted me, they were expecting something or someone quite different as well. I could tell what they were wondering and I deemed it best to get it out of the way quickly before it became the running joke of my career.

"Your officers are staring at me like a pink-feathered callox is sitting on my head," I stated simply, turning my attention back to Kasteen and Broklaw. "Is there something I'm missing?" The exchange of glances between all the officers was indicative that they were all thinking the same thing, which I could have interpreted as a positive sign of cohesion amongst them.

"The briefing slate said that this was to be your first assignment to a field regiment," Broklaw finally answered, sound more resolute than I would have expected given the circumstances. His prolonged association with Commissar Cain had probably eased his attitude towards the Commissariat. "We were told to expect a relatively inexperienced Commissar and, frankly, we were expecting somebody a bit…um…"

He trailed off for a moment, as though he was looking for the politest way to tell his wife that her dress made her arse look like the dark side of a meteor. I took the liberty off finishing his train of thought for him. "Expecting somebody a bit younger?"

"Uh, exactly Commissar."

"I'm twenty-three."

"Really?" an officer piped up almost entirely on reflex, as noted by the sudden, sharp inhale from the others, including the officer in question. I'm proud to say that a less-disciplined commissar would probably have shot somebody on the spot for that but I managed to keep my temper in check despite an growing urge to thump somebody on the head for that remark.

"It's the hair, isn't it?" I asked rhetorically, needlessly returning everyone's attention to the tied-back locks that I kept secure under my cap. I had no doubt that they were already aware of it but it added a nice dramatic effect, not to mention made me appear more modest about my hair than I really was. In sharp contrast to every other youthful feature, my hair was a hazy mix of grays and whites, mostly white at this point in my life, and this odd colour scheme added ten years if not more to my looks. At best, I looked like somebody who had a bad reaction to a juvenat treatment, not that I ever imagined I'd ever be privy to such expensive drug therapies. Once Kasteen nodded an acknowledgement, the rest followed suit, albeit in a bit of reluctance. They still weren't sure if this was going to trigger some sort of furious response but they were astute enough to know that standing together meant I would have to dilute my anger out over a larger group. Much to their relief, I simply smiled back. "I get that a lot."

I was lying of course; at the time I didn't get very many comments or looks at all, though over the years I would be using that line a lot more than I would have liked. Now you're probably wondering why I never bothered to just dye it over and avoid all the confusion but at that time all my years in commissariat could be summed up by the word 'unrecognized' and it wasn't until my hair had changed that somebody finally started to take notice. Though oddly enough nobody ever second-guessed me when I lied and claimed that my hair had always been that way. Apparently nobody wanted to admit that they hadn't paid any attention to me until my hair took on its unique colour patterns. In my youth, with all the impetuous decision-making that comes with it, I figured keeping it would make it at least a little easier to gain some recognition, even if it was for an entirely piss-poor reason.

When I asked about Commissar Cain's absence, I was reassured that he sent 'his most sincere regards' but that he was unavailable at the moment due to more pressing issues. At the time I figured that this meant he was in a meeting with some high ranking officials and not some card game, which as I was to learn much later in our relationship was probably closer to the truth.

Once the pleasantries had been dispensed with, I was given a chance to inspect some of the squads and platoons that I would be fighting along side of during my tour; if I lived long enough. I gave quiet thanks to the Emperor that I had been assigned to a mixed-gender unit; it was tough enough being a woman when dealing with members of the commissariat but it was even harder to try and instill discipline on unruly Guardsmen when the average soldier stood damn near a foot taller and a 100 pounds heavier than you, a fact made worse by the Valhallans who were naturally tall people in general. It could have been worse, I suppose. I was never really sure what I would have done if I had been attached to a regiment of jungle-giants, better known as Catachans, and, thankfully, I never needed to find out (in actuality, commissars were rarely attached to such units).

For those of you who are curious, at the time of my first tour I was five foot four and 120 pounds of fighting fury, not including pointy hat. I am both shorter and heavier thanks to my many decades of service and numerous augments.

Once again, the level of professionalism extended to me, this time by the common soldier, left me feeling rather impressed. Though not really welcomed by their numbers, I wasn't being subtly pushed aside, though I still suspected that a few of them would much prefer to put a lasbolt in my back just so they could go back to their happy days under Cain's watch. The sight of so many women in uniform left me feeling a bit more comfortable in my surroundings, while the sight of so many tall men left my neck with a slight cramp by the end of the day. Once I had been sufficiently introduced to enough of the troops and been given a few minutes to ramble some platitudes about how I was honoured to be serving with them, I was free to tend to my affairs for the remainder of the day.

Getting settled in my new, temporary home wasn't too difficult; my life could squeeze into a duffle bag to be honest and I don't recall ever having more than a few squares meters to my name for the past decade. The small room I had been given was actually a step up from my previous living arrangements and I didn't have to share it with anyone. Since this vessel was only a troop transport I stowed my bag into a niche in the wall, poured myself a glass of amasec, and declared myself settled in. Several hours and a bottle of amasec later, I found myself wandering through the corridors of Beneficence with a slight buzz that probably would have earned me a reprimand or two if somebody in authority had found out. Not that I was worried about being caught or letting my intoxication show – finding a Krieg who can't handle their alcohol was about as likely as finding an Eldar without an ego.

Still, I made sure to be cautious and kept myself close to a wall or railing at all times. I was curious what other regiments were aboard the vessel. According to the ship's manifest, there were regiments from Valhalla, Kastafore, and Tallarn aboard. I was slightly disappointed there were no units from Krieg aboard but to think that there were was nothing short of childish. This task force had been assembled in haste and no Krieg units were close enough to participate. Our transport was part of a small flotilla that had been hastily assembled in order to respond to a distress signal sent out from a nearby system, or at least that's what I had assumed was the case. We hadn't been formally briefed yet but I had been told that quickly assembling units still fresh from a campaign normally meant that there was an urgent need for troops and no one else was close enough to deal with the call for help. It ranked high on the list of undesirable military situations, just below walking through a minefield while juggling live hand grenades.

My walkabout was mostly uneventful as they usually were. I had long since had a strange habit of taking such long walks through random hallways since I was a youth. Since going outside was never really an option on Krieg so corridors were all I ever had. During the hours where it had unofficially agreed upon to be 'after hours' the hallway luminators were kept at half-power to create a sort of nighttime illusion or just simply to conserve power when 90% of the population were asleep in their quarters. The hollow echo of my footsteps, that repetitive click-clank sound from my boots brought a sense of comfort and familiarity to me. It wasn't rockrete but it created that same, deep emptiness that I had grown to miss since leaving home.

A few times I passed by more secluded regions of the ship where I oversaw why the mixed-gender of the Valhallan 597th was such a welcomed sight by other Guard units. I made sure not to disturb anybody's privacy. Emperor knows it was hard enough for a soldier get some proper…intimacy with others given the hellish nature of their job. Heck, there was a good chance one of the two wasn't going to be alive by the end of the campaign so why ruin their last few chances of indulging in the bliss of such affairs. I might have also been feeling a bit envious of them too. I had never been one to pine over the benefits of physical intimacy but even a stoic servant to His Majesty had needs every once in a while.

About half-way through my walk I was hit by the second half of that bottle of amasec and I started to wonder if my walkabout was going to finish on my bed or if I shouldn't find a nice quiet corner to rest until the corridors stopped whirling. I must have lost focus for a moment because the next thing I knew I was falling headlong towards the steel deck. I don't recall how I manage to lose my footing but I wouldn't be surprised if a Guardsman had left a little tripwire behind just to alleviate some boredom (a fact I confirmed moments later). No doubt a pictcaster was watching my plummet. However instead of crashing face-first into the deck, I was caught in mid-fall by a hefty pair of arms. Instinctively, of course, I grabbed hold of the man and climbed my way up his arm, hand over hand, until I had regained my footing. The fall left a lingering doubt to just how steady I actually was.

"You okay there ma'am?" the man said with a hint of concern.

"Just surprised," I replied, trying to maintain my composure. Glancing up, I discovered I was staring at the chest of a man in a commissarial great coat. I had to crane my neck further back to find the man's face. No doubt I had the expression of a gaping inbred hick when I realized that I had fallen into the arms of the one man on the ship I was actually trying to avoid.

"You must Commissar Abel, if I'm not mistaken," Cain said, picking my cap off the floor and handing it over.

"How did you guess that, sir?"

"It's the hair."

"Oh, yes sir…I get that a lot," I answered as I fitted my hat back into place. The first thing about Cain that struck me was just how frakkin tall the man was. He was probably quite used to towering over people but in my case that distance was quite dramatic and all of a sudden I felt very, very small. "I had been meaning to arrange an appointment with you so we could discuss how to best share responsibilities." It was a complete lie, actually, as I was quite comfortable with keeping out of sight for the next few months. I dreaded the thought of what our first encounter may be but I knew if I wanted to forge an actual career out of this experience I was going to have to face the legend eventually. Shuffling datapads may have been rather dull and tedious but unfortunately it had become a comfort zone for me. And in times of nervousness I would instinctively find myself pining to be back behind my old desk again.

"There's no need to rush things Miss Abel, we'll have plenty of time to get matters settled out," Cain reassured me, almost instantly alleviating my initial concerns that he would be bothered that I hadn't sought him out sooner, though it hadn't occurred to me that he hadn't been making any effort to find me either. "I must admit I was surprised to hear that another commissar was being attached to the 597th."

"Commissar-General Higgins thought it would be a 'smashing idea' to 'fostering my inner hero' with some of your inspiration," I explained, for some odd reason making sure that I had accurately mimicked the Commissar-General's goofy accent when quoting his explanation to me. The stories of Cain's sense of humour proved to be true, at least, since he seemed to smile at my impromptu impersonation.

"As I recall Higgins is a hard man to impress, you must have done something quite spectacular to get his attention." The deeds that brought me to the 597th may have been praised by many but the thought that the legendary Cain himself might share those sentiments did bring a slight fluster to my face…that or the amasec was coming in for another attack run.

"Yes sir. Maybe when my head is a bit clearer and I get my Warp legs I'll share it with you over some amasec."

"I'll break out my best bottle," he laughed as he gave me a hearty slap on the shoulder. I lurched, the corridor violently whirled and I proceeded to throw up all over his boots.

* * *

Now either Cain was a man of infinite patience or somehow the thought of me sitting pathetically at a table cleaning vomit and bile off of his boots like a juvie being detained by his tutor left the commissar feeling sympathetic to my plight because despite my best efforts to assume responsibility for my actions, he would have nothing of it. He insisted that I was not the first commissar to do something stupid after drinking far too much, like meandering into an enemy's encampment, and I should just put the issue behind me. I got the feeling he was trying to placate me for some reason; perhaps the last thing he needed on his hands was a commissar slowly self-destructing from their ineptitude. Or perhaps he knew you can't palm off your paperwork onto a commissar that can barely keep their head together, let alone administer disciplinary actions. However, if his intentions were to keep my self-criticism from tearing apart the last vestiges of confidence I had, it worked.

Contrary to what the general image is of commissars, we are people just like everyone else and are prone to the same faults that plague the common soldier, medical orderly, librarian, or a data-shuffling clerk. Cain reassurance, or I should say repeated reassurances, were enough to force my mind back into focus on the important matters at hand, which at the time were getting into my bed and passing out, neither of which proved to be very difficult.

The next few weeks, I made sure to give Cain a wide berth, not out of fear but because I needed to make sure I had fully recovered before attempting to muster my way back into his little world. I kept content with various little bits of paperwork, which Cain was kind enough to send my way (whether to help my fragile ego or just to free up his time is anyone's guess). Contrary to how I may have painted myself thus far, I was not some bumbling fool with barely enough confidence to keep my eyes at head level. Back in my cadet days in the schola, I was the very picture of confidence. It was easy to stay confident when your life wasn't hanging in the balance or you had a team of equally-armed fellow cadets backing you up. I also had the confidence that comes from years of hard work, dedicated study, and fending off randy, hormone-driven cadets with a large celibacy stick (also known as a shock maul).

By the time I crossed paths with Cain again, I was beginning to feel like my old, confident self again. It was many weeks later, which had given me time to better acquaint myself with the soldiers in the regiment and I slowly started to feel like I was a part of the unit, albeit still a carefully watch part, but at least I wasn't getting the cold shoulder (no Valhallan pun intended). I was certain my doubts would return once we hit our destination, some backwater planet called Adumbria, which was about to become the unfortunate face for the fist of the Chaos worshippers' insanity. I had hoped my first campaign would involve something a little less terrifying but when I thought about it…everything out there had the potential to be terrifying from the green oceans of an Ork horde to the awe-inspiring and trouser-soiling might of Tau and Eldar technosorcery (and, according to Cain, a few other things that I was not privy to but should thank the Emperor for every day I remain in blissful ignorance). Adumbria presented an interesting challenge, and not just because the Lord-General had the task of defending a whole world with only five regiments and whatever effort the PDF could muster up for us (which usually amounted to being more trouble than it's worth). An invasion from orbit meant there was a lot of ground to cover and a serious lack of troops to do it with. The fact that the bulk of Adumbria's population resided in a narrow band of hospitable temperatures meant that there were few solid points of defense outside the polar band. Our forces would likely be stuck in reactionary mode, which any intelligent officer can attest to is as bad as letting the other guy have the first shot in a dueling match.

"She assaulted another soldier!" I reasserted, responding to Cain's surprisingly indifferent reaction to my report about a fight that had broken out on the recreation deck, one of whom was a Corporal Magot from our unit. "She pummeled him half to death."

I sat in the small room that passed for his office, opposite for the great commissar who seemed more interested in sipping on his bowl of tanna leaf tea than continue this discussion with me. Getting to the commissar had proven to be a challenge in its own right, as he seemed to have strategically designed his work arrangement to make only the more staunch of audience-seekers remain. When I first came I had been told by the commissar's aide, an oddity of a man called Jurgen who had a bouquet of an Ork's armpit, that Cain was busy. Despite being told to simply come back another time, I insisted on remaining in the anteroom until Cain became available. The odour alone was enough to dissuade most people but thankfully I had my gasmask with me (all natives of Krieg tend to carry theirs around, regardless of where they are) so I was prepared to wait it out. It was only until Cain summoned his aide for a fresh bowl of tanna did I discover that the man had scarcely been busy at all! I should have known that his avoidance was not directed at me personally, but I felt insulted all the same.

"Quite spectacularly if the reports from the witnesses are accurate," Cain replied, sipping his fresh bowl of tanna casually. I had approached Cain originally to consult his opinion on the matter before assigning disciplinary matters myself, as I had been the first commissar on the scene of the incident. Instead, though, Cain asserted his seniority and took the matter completely out of my hand. "Nonetheless, I stand by my decision."

"A reprimand and return to duty?" I asked rhetorically, nearly spilling a few drops from my own tea bowl that Cain had been so civil enough to offer me, despite my earlier temperament. My first impression of the drink were poor, though according to Cain that was to be expected, but I kept hold of the bowl and continued sipping on it occasionally simply to remain polite. "Sir, you're basically letting her get away with assault. How does this instill discipline? This is practically a dereliction of your duty."

I immediately regretted letting those words slip. When dealing with other commissars there were lines you weren't supposed to cross and I had just taken a spectacular running jump clear over it. "I hope that wasn't an accusation Commissar Abel," he answered slowly and deliberating while letting a hand fall onto the butt of his laspistol, "because an accusation like that isn't one you should be tossing around lightly, especially to a senior commissar." He shot me what I would later learn to be his 'second-best intimidating commissarial glare.' Worked like a charm might I add, and I commenced beating a verbal retreat as though Horus himself was after me.

"I-I apologize commissar, that wasn't what I meant to imply. I just...I fail to understand your reasoning sir."

He smiled at me again, as though letting me know that he never really intended to carry out the implied threat moments ago. I was strangely reminded of my cadet days again and I got the feeling Cain was turning this into some sort of lesson for me. "Ariel, there's more to being a commissar than fancy hats, red sashes, and blasting holes in undisciplined guardsmen. Our job is to maintain the efficiency of the unit we're attached to as well as their morale. Pouncing on soldiers for every little infraction might maintain efficiency but it won't help morale in the long run. They'll respect you…but they'll also fear you and when troopers start to fear you more than they respect you…well, that's when black crosses start to happen. I'm sure you know all too well about that."

That's when the lights clicked on and truth dawned on me. He must've been combing my background files and found that little note about my father whose illustrious career was capped when a guardsman gave him a reassuring pat on the back with a shotgun. For the longest time I had held a grudge against the common soldier for his death until I eventually grew old enough to come to the realization that it wasn't entirely the soldier's fault. My dad was a colossal asshole. His combination of absolute devotion to the letter of the law and his violent temperament guaranteed him a sudden, violent and well deserved death. I had vowed not to make those mistakes when I joined the commissariat but over the years I had somehow convinced myself that those tactics had merit.

I once mentioned to Cain that he would make a quality tutor when he got tired of being a front line commissar and he laughed at it for some reason, as though I had missed some big joke.

"I don't plan on enrolling in the same retirement plan but this job presents a huge challenge. It's not exactly easy to inspire discipline when most soldiers take one look at you and can't decide whether to feel sorry, protective, or aroused."

"Is that why you still carry around the breather?" Cain asked, referring to the gas mask that hung loosely from my neck. True, I had donned the apparatus when confronting Corporal Magot. When you didn't have size on your side you had to turn to whatever advantages you can get and the de-humanizing effect of a black polymer mask with black, mirrored lenses was quite effective.

"That and the old saying about how you can take a girl out of Krieg…" I replied, tugging on the mask almost entirely on nervous reflex. "How do you do it Sir? You make it look so easy."

"Cheating, deception, trickery, manipulations, running in absolute terror and lying about it afterwards." I burst into a hearty laugh at his answer as the thought of Cain the Hero running away from a horde of xenos with his arms flailing at his sides rushed through my mind like a refreshing morning breeze, scattering my gnawing anxieties. I had to set my tea on the desk before I risked spilling the contents. "Ariel…I've looked through your old records, you were a bright student and a promising commissar who, for some reason, disappeared into the cracks of the beaurocratic administration. If you really want my help, you're going to have to trust my advice when I give, no matter how absurd it seems at the time."

"Sir, yes sir."

"Good," he said, reaching over and sliding a few dataslates over to me. "My first piece of advice is fill out these forms for me."

Once again I wondered if his help came from a sincere desire to see me succeed or just so he could have an unofficial underling to palm some of his work off to. True, he had his aide for much of that but any kind of form that needed commissar's attention could easily be diverted over to me. It was a small price to pay if he held up his end of the bargain, so despite the lack of seriousness in his tone, I took the dataslates from him and told him I'd have them finished before the day was over.

Catching another waft of Jurgen's pungent odour, I was half-tempted to fit my mask back on but stern resolve kept it where it was. I got the feeling I would be hanging around Jurgen a lot and I had best get used to him so I wouldn't gag on the battlefield. His malodorous aide mentioned something about a Commissar Beije and judging by the barely audible sigh I imagined that this Beije fellow was about as welcomed as an Ork fart.

"Old friend?" I asked.

"Not old enough."

"I think one of my old tutors mentioned something about an over-pious little squelch named Beije. Do you remember a commissar by the name of Hashmyn?"

"Hashmyn…yeah, I remember him. He's a tutor now? I figured that drunken womanizer would've been shot for cowardice by now. Does he still carry that obscenely huge pistol around?"

I grinned knowingly, sliding my laspistol from its holster and letting it drop onto the desk with a resonating thud that knocked Cain's empty tanna bowl onto its side. A look of surprise managed to crack through his usual composed façade, gazing at the sizeable weapon as though the Emperor himself had dropped it off. "Sweet Emperor, I've seen Astartres carry smaller guns than that."

He exaggerated, of course. The laspistol was about the same size as a hellpistol but packed a lot more punch thanks to the hotshot power packs installed. The extra cooling cells and its reinforced barrel may have added a lot more weight to it but I had grown used to its bulk so I was able to wield with the precision of a marksman, which I happened to be. I explained to Cain that my tutor was so willing to part with his prized custom laspistol not only because I was one of his favourite students, for reasons I wasn't too fond of but wasn't going to turn down all the perks it gave me, but also the best shot in the entire schola (at the time at least). It had enough power to punch a hole through an Astartes or at least in theory it did. I wouldn't get an opportunity to test that claim out for a few more years.

"Bloody heavy piece of hardware you have," Cain remarked, holding the weapon carefully, scrutinizing every little detail. It may have not been the most elegant of weaponry with capacitors and reinforced plating mounted across its frame almost as crudely as an Ork shoota but what it lacked it aesthetics it definitely made up for in power and reliability.

"That's cause it's so full of His Divine Wrath, sir."

"And a few extra discharge capacitors by the looks of it. Seems a bit unwieldy if you ask me. What are you going to do when an enemy gets in close?"

"Kick him in the nards sir? It used to work well with cadets"

He chuckled briefly before handing my laspistol back. "Don't think that'll work on an Ork."

"Well I do have my other laspistol too," I explained as I took my second pistol from its holster on my left hip and set it down on the desk. Unlike my obscenely large hotshot laspistol, my standard laspistol had a much smaller and more familiar build. If a fight ever started getting ugly I was fully capable of using both at the same time. I had a chainsword too somewhere in all my kit, though even Cain had to smirk at the thought of little old me trying to swing one of those things around for longer than a few minutes. If I wanted a real chance of having any stamina with that weapon I'd need a lot of practice. Fortunately, there were always these long trips through the warp to kill time with.

Though I had barely even made it half-way through my bowl of tanna, I had decided that now was as good a time as any to excuse myself and return to my quarters to start on the work that Cain had so unceremoniously dropped onto my lap. Before I could say my good-byes, though, Jurgen emerged from the anteroom once more, followed by a young woman in a Guardsman uniform. I took quick notice of the flash burn across one of her cheeks, using it as an easy point of reference so I would remember the trooper's name, a Corporal Penlan as introduced by Jurgen.

"Sorry to interrupt Commissars but Colonel Kasteen sent me to get you," Penlan explained after snapping a prompt salute to us both. Before she got to her message, though, her eyes fell on my laspistol sitting on the desk. She let out an impressed whistle, muttering something that sounded like 'shady' as she picked it up. I could vividly remember sharing the same sense of awe and intrigue the first time I saw a laspistol my father had casually left upon his office desk. I can even remember his exact words when I picked it up – 'don't touch, you'll take your eye out with that thing.'

I wish somebody had told Penlan that, especially as my 'standard' laspistol wasn't quite standard after I had significantly lightened the trigger pull. With the crack of ionized air, the last thing my left eye saw was a blinding flash of red as the lasbolt ricocheted off the walls, flooring me instantly. The next few minutes were a bit of a blur to me, though I do recall an inordinate amount of profanity and panicked shouts for a medic.

And with that, my participation in the Adumbira campaign came to an unceremonious end. That and I got my first of many scars serving under the Hero of the Imperium.


	2. TWO

**TWO**

Unless you're an Astartes, being shot is an experience you will never get used to nor will you ever forget. Brushes with death are like snow flakes – they might all melt into a nice uniform puddle after a few minutes but at the time each and every one is unique. I'm certain that Cain can remember all the times the Emperor decided to spare his life for a little while longer and aside from a couple of augmetic fingers he seemed to have escaped the worst of it in relatively good order. As for myself, I was never so lucky. Sure, it could have been a whole lot worse; that lasbolt could have gone through my eye socket and pulped my brain and ended my career right then and there. By the Emperor's grace, though, I had flinched just enough that the lasbolt just merely raked across it, frying my eyeball into a raisin and scorching all the skin around it.

On the bright side, at least I never had to pluck that eyebrow again.

Downside, of course, was that for those few brief minutes it felt like somebody had replaced my eyeball with a burning coal. I spouted enough profanities to give a priest an aneurysm and if I had been a bit more coherent I would have used what willpower I had left to organize a firing squad for Penlan. Cain was quick to get the corporal as far away from me as possible in the off chance a hand managed to find its way to my laspistol. Only the liberal application of painkillers and sedatives finally stopped the cussing and the threats of retribution and my pain-induced insanity subsided. When the drug-induced haze finally lifted I was in the medicae bay, hooked to a few machines that made little ping noises every fifty-seven seconds (yes, I counted. You'd be amazed what your mind will turn to when you're stuck in bed). An all-too chipper physician explained the total extent of my injury, not that I couldn't deduce what the outcome was going to be by mere process of elimination. I had taken a lasbolt to the eye – you either died (or were left severely brain-damaged) or you lost the eye and had a wicked scar to show at parties. Since I'm writing this it's obvious I didn't die and since I could think clearly enough to note that the doctor had at least three uniform infractions my brain was functioning just fine.

The left half of my face still felt relatively numb from the hurried surgery needed to scrap out jerkied bits of my eye that dangled from my optic nerve like a piece of fish bait. Since it was a lasbolt everything had been cauterized instantly so there wasn't any bleeding but a doctor did have come by every day at noon for a week to clean out more dead tissue and pus from the socket. I won't bog you down with the rather unsettling details but simply imagine this: picture that gunk you get in your eye after a night's sleep that you have to sweep out of the corner of your eye. Now imagine that's your whole eye and you have to scrape that out every morning. Thankfully by the week's end the doctor felt it was safe enough to put in a temporary prosthetic to 'plug the hole' while I wait for an augmetic replacement. He basically shoved in a polished brass ball and called it a day. On the up side it didn't itch as much after that.

When I first awoke, I was surprised to see Cain sitting next to the bed, toiling away on a dataslate. Apparently he had accompanied me all the way from his office in what the doctors took as a profound sign of his concern for his fellow commissar but I suspected he was just using it as a means to get away from that Beije fellow. I didn't really care what the reason was, just grateful for the company.

"Commissar Cain, where's Penlan?" I asked immediately, twisting my head all the way to the side since he was sitting to my left.

"Someplace safe," he answered, not batting an eye away from his dataslate. "She's going to be scrubbing latrines for the next few weeks so that'll keep you from finding her too."

"Sir, she almost blew my brains out and you're giving her latrine duty?"

"If your brain is okay why do you seem to be forgetting what we had been discussing before your mishap?" I had figured he was going to pull that card on me so I didn't make an argument out of it. I was disappointed and angry; a part of me had wanted to prove myself to Cain, not to mention to myself, and now I was likely to miss most, if not all, of the Adumbria campaign. Even if I did manage to talk my way out of the medicae bay early, I wasn't going to be able to shoot straight with only one eye. I'd be relegated to desk duties until I could get a biotic fixed. "You'll be okay…Penlan's streaks of bad luck always have a way of turning out for the best."

You couldn't blame me for not sharing Cain's optimism at that point. What was currently running through my head, other than what I would do to Penlan if I ever got my hands on her, was how I was going to get myself transferred back to headquarters. Think what you might of me but back then I was definitely not the stalwart material I was when my career ended. That degree of pain and agony was nothing I was interested in going through again if I could help it and while dataslate cooking might not be the most glorious of services to His Divine Majesty it was at least a career I could see an positive end to.

Since there was nothing more to gain by sitting at my bedside, Cain handed the dataslate over to me. I noticed that it was the same one I had been handed earlier and promised to get working on. Now you might think that it was a bit cruel for Cain to be still palming off work to me even though I was in the medicae bay but that simply demonstrated just how perceptive Cain was to the idiosyncrasies of those under him. Short of a bottle of amasec, a dataslate was the easiest way to get my mind off my currentle troubles. Grinding through the pages and pages of nigh-indecipherable Administratum jargon had an oddly calming effect for me. Kind of like fitting a jigsaw puzzle together only your reward is the reaffirmation of the fact that the Administratum is full of narcissistic blowhards who couldn't write their way out of a paper bag. And they wonder why things get so bogged down when it came to paperwork? Half the time I needed to take notes on the notes and my only saving grace was that at least the people of the Administratum were generally an unimaginative lot when it came to their Gothic.

As I fought my way through layers and layers of low Gothic that bore some semblance to disciplinary manifests and updated protocols, my mind drifted to my days back at headquarters. I wonder if anybody ever fixed that recaff machine. I swear by the Golden Throne that just being in close proximity to our office and its endless head-banging idiocy had tainted the machine's spirit.

Of course, if it hadn't been for that recaff machine I wouldn't be in the situation I am now, happily droning on into a dataslate while a servitor comes along to refill my tanna bowl every hour. I suppose I should probably elaborate.

Before being posted to the Valhallan 597th, I had been assigned to work at the Segmentum Commissariat headquarters, toiling through dataslates for stretches that were best measured in days. At the time, I was under the 'direction' of Commissar-General Haeg, an oversized man with more chins than brains, whose brilliance ended at the top of his overly polished boots (and I should know, he usually assigned me to polish them when he got upset with me), and with more metal pinned to his coat than I currently have got in my body (which is considerable). He also had a horrible tendency to talk while eating a sweetbun or a grox-meat sandwich, as though coherent speech needed an immediate influx of fuel just to keep sputtering like an Ork buggie, resulting in an endless spray of bread flechettes. He was a man whose glory days were about as far behind him as the Golden Age of the Imperium.

Before you ask, I'm able to fling such insults around with impunity because the man is quite dead and hardly missed, least of all by the firing squad.

However, at the time the man had an all-commanding authority over that which made up our department of the Commissariat. Haeg would spend less time performing his assigned duties and more time droning on and on about his glory days on the battlefield where every trooper stood steadfast behind him as he charged into battle. I imagined that if he was even half his girth in his glory days then most troopers stood behind him for the obvious cover he provided.

"Why back in '83 when I was still attached to the 420th Cadian…it was the battle at Thiepval Ridge where those cowardly heretics had taken up position along the ridgeline," Haeg droned on a seemingly uneventful day at the Commissariat, peppering bits of dough across my dataslate and dunking several large bits into my mug of recaff. "Now the colonel insisted that we call up more artillery to start harassing the enemy positions, trying to push them out into the open. But I reminded the officers that the general wanted that ridgeline taken and by the Emperor I wasn't about to let a bunch of bolters and stubbers take away all the glory that was rightfully ours. If they didn't order the soldiers to fix bayonets and to get their arses in gear I was going to have the whole lot of them executed for cowardice! Now I tell you what, I marched those boys right up that hill and we gave those heretics what for!"

And if I recall my history classes from the schola correctly he also succeeded in getting over half of the 420th Cadian regiment wiped out in the process. The crowning irony is that they still gave the man a medal for that. That medal also happens to sit atop of my mantle as a reminder to the power of stupidity.

"I'm sure the heretics were very surprised to see you, sir," I replied sardonically, though Haeg seemed oblivious to my tone as he was to the rest of reality. For reasons of the obvious rarity of my kind, Haeg had gone to great lengths to secure my attachment to his department, which, if anything, gave motivation for me to get away from the desk. However, my first few months with the Valhallans had made the enduring of his old war stories seem like pleasant alternative. As I smiled and nodded with a judicious application of feigned awe that came only from years of having to listen to the man, I made a quick excuse of needing to refill my recaff, which was technically true (not that I had been drinking it lately), and made myself scarce, forcing the old Commissar-General to lord over somebody else for a while.

Enter our malevolent little recaff machine, which many of us at the office had nicknamed 'Little Horus' for his daily betrayal of promising us the much needed drinks we required to get us through the day. According to Adders, a fellow commissar whose laid-back demeanor provided an invaluable support to shore up the buckling walls of my sanity, Little Horus had been tormenting our headquarters for as long as anyone can remember and likely even longer than that. Yet, for every part of it that was malevolent, there was another part that was equally cunning, as though it knew just how much to torment us to ruin our days but not enough to force us to call in the cogs to get the thing re-sanctified (and even when we did, they said there was never anything wrong with it). I was muttering some simple litanies of cooperation while I surrendered my mug to Little Horus in hopes that I would be rewarded with a fill of hot recaff, or at least a mug of recaff…hell, an intact mug was actually considered a positive result at times.

"Come on…cooperate and I won't need to get judicial on your arse," I muttered bitterly, tapping several of the buttons in vain.

"You're sounding a bit more irritable than usual," Adders commented, appearing at my elbow with his own almost empty mug to duel with Little Horus over. Adders was the closest friend I had back then, his carefree yet chivalrous attitude providing a small island of comfort in a rolling sea of frustration and stupidity. Most importantly, he didn't want in my pants, which was more than I could say for a few of my fellow commissars (though in Adders case, it wouldn't have been unwanted). "Haeg proving to be more monotonous than usual?"

"Among other things," I answered with a sigh, moving onto the next step of negotiations with Little Horus, which involved thumping it a few times. "High Command wasn't very happy with my Technosorcery Prospect Status report…apparently I forgot to put a cover letter on it."

"Didn't you get the memo about that last week?"

"Nooo…" I corrected him, "I was double-verifying those judicial proceeding reports. All three-frakking-thousand of them, remember?"

"Oh right," Adders said, sipping his recaff thoughtfully, "how is that going anyways?"

"As fast the Emperor wills it," I answered, which was my way of saying slower than I'd care to admit. After a few more strings of profanities and several hard taps on the buttons, Little Horus finally spewed out my recaff, though a quick sip revealed it to be cold as usual. Horus also managed to spit a glob of recaff onto my shirt, much to my non-existent amusement. "The committee wants my analysis done by next week and High Command won't read my report until I slap a damn cover letter onto it, not to mention Haeg keeps asking me about that damn conference on Kashyt X he wants me to accompany him on…"

"I wouldn't trust being left alone in a hotel with that old man."

"No shit! What gave that away?" I had to be careful not to let my voice get too boisterous, less I wish for other ears to catch wind of me. The cold recaff did little to keep my temper calm, though watching Adders go through his own ritual of compliance with Little Horus did provide some amusement. He didn't really know enough High Gothic to iterate proper litanies and his attempts to repeat what I used were bad enough to make most Ecclesiarch priests hang their head in dismay. Eventually, though, even Little Horus felt sorry for the lad and would barf out a trivial amount of recaff, also ice cold. At least one of the cogboys on the floor below us was nice enough to fix up a heating plate for us so most of us were content with whatever Little Horus spat up.

"Look on the bright side…"

"Which would be what? That sexual assault would at least give me a reason to shoot the bastard?"

"While true, and slightly mutinous, I was actually referring to my predicament." Adders, being a recaff addict, wasn't satisfied with what Little Horus gave him and went about a second attempt to appease the machine's spirit, butchering his High Gothic worse than before. "Haeg needs some sensitive dataslates babysat while in transit to Haud Reverto. Honestly, since that incident with the sonic resonator and his liquor cabinet Haeg has just wanted to get rid of me for as long as humanly possible."

Not surprisingly, Adders perception of the world didn't extend very far beyond his own little bubble, as he didn't even seem to contemplate the consequences his absence would have had on me. Traveling through the warp was a gamble every time, not just with your life but also with your time of arrival. It was a confusing issue and one that made you want to know less the more you thought about it. I thought my day was just about hitting rock bottom when Adders' negotiations with Little Horus resulted in a stream of hot recaff nailing me square in the face.

"That does it!" I hollered, caring not for repercussions or potential hitting somebody hitting somebody with a ricochet. I drew my laspistol, shouted something about His divine wrath and blasted a hole straight through Little Horus, sending sprays of recaff in all directions.

Unfazed by the sudden burst of rage, Adders gave me a scrutinizing gaze over the rim of his mug. "Perhaps you should take my spot. You could use the time away from the office."

"Nonsense, I feel perfectly fine now. Better, in fact," I protested as I wiped the recaff from my face. With its last breath, Little Horus let out an appropriately timed blast of recaff right into my trousers. After a letting loose a flurry of lasbolts I took a moment to reconsider Adders proposal. He might have had a point after all. Too bad I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

* * *

The vessel I was traveling on was a meager cargo transport known as the Blessed Bounty, which spent most of its time ferrying munitions and other supplies from one side of the segmentum to the other. It wasn't a luxury yacht but the simple fact I was free from the chains of my desk was all the luxury I needed at the time. There was no paperwork to be done, (particularly the kind needed to explain a battle damaged recaff machine) no boots to polish, and no oversized Haeg prattling about the regiments he's led (or managed to get slaughtered). The captain of the vessel seemed to be an amicable enough guy and he invited me to dinner a few times during our voyage, not that we had a great deal to talk about. I never considered myself to be very good company; I had no war stories to share and little more than trivial anecdotes from my days as a cadet to tide him over. He was a civilian captain and I was a commissar, I had about as much in common with him as I did with an Eldar.

Between the minimal crew and decks upon decks of massive cargo holds and empty corridors, I spent most of the voyage on my own, not that I was bothered by the isolation. If anything, I felt I could use some time to myself. Life on most Imperial worlds brought whole new meanings to the word 'cramped' so the extra elbowroom was appreciated if anything. I even managed to step up a small firing range in one of the cargo rooms between crates of rations and medical supplies. With all the crates of ammunition lying around it wasn't hard to keep myself entertained (as common practice, most cargo convoys carried more supply than actually requisitioned with the assumption some of it may be lost while in transit).

There was one definite highlight to my time aboard the Bounty and his name was Devian, one of the bridge crew who unfortunately spent most of his time toiling away on it. I don't remember exactly what his duties entailed, since my knowledge of space ships and space travel was 'big metal thingie carrying me from planet A to planet B,' but what time we did get to spend together we didn't waste talking about jobs and duties. Alas, since most of our lives revolved around our jobs and duties, it left conversations particularly light, not that we ever did a whole lot of talking. We did…well, what you would expect a young man and woman to do when you stick them in a confined space for a long period of time. He wasn't even very interesting and only average in terms of looks but he had the distinct advantage of being the only man in my age bracket so it was less of a choice and more of a lack of options on my part unless I wanted to try out some of the girls in the mess hall…and don't you dare picture that.

Between gunnery practice, my romps with Devian, and the occasional game of regicide with the captain, which I still suck at by the way, time passed by pretty quickly, at least as well as I could tell. Time linearity was one of those things that went out the airlock when you traveled through the Warp. However, even my limited understanding of the Warp told me something was wrong when we made the transition back to real space. Rather than the relatively smooth transition that felt like riding on the back of a Leman Russ, it was far more violent and abrupt, not to mention hit you in the gut like an angry ogryn. The second thing that tipped me off was the haste in which Devian leapt from the our bunk, barely even answering my question of what the frak was going on before zipping up his pants and bolting out the door. He said something along the lines of 'stay put' when he left but if he thought I was going to just sit around and jiggle my mask (old Krieg saying) than he obviously forgot whom he was dealing with. Even if the most I could do was hang around the bridge and remind the crew whose life was hinging on their success, with a little help from my laspistol if need be, then that was precisely what I was going to do.

When I caught up to Devian, he was already waiting for an elevator, or more specifically he had been waiting for an elevator and by the time I had arrived he had deduced that the elevator was no longer functioning; a fact accentuated by the sudden bellowing of the alarm system. Loud sirens and flashing red lights rarely meant good things and it motivated us to move for the stairs with all speed. I didn't even care that my shirt and greatcoat were flapping open as I ran through the halls.

"Shouldn't the captain make some sort of announcement?" I asked after I realized that nothing else had accompanied the blaring alarms. A generic alarm with no accompanying announcement just led to confusion rather than a state of readiness. There was one possibility but I dared not think about it, instead praying hopefully that this was all just some glitch with the ship's automated systems.

"Well, he might just be too busy yelling at the crew to get to work to make an announcement. Aside from you and a couple passengers it's just the crew and they'd know once they reached their work stations," Devian tried to reassure me, leading me through a series of closed bulkheads and narrow stairwells. He explained to me that such an abrupt transition back to real space was usually the result of a problem with the engines or the navigation system. The truth, unfortunately, was a hell of a lot worse.

The first clue to how bad things had gotten was when we came to the hatch leading to the bridge, which lay on the deck about a dozen feet from the actual opening. A thick smear of blood across it didn't help alleviate my fears. Taking the lead, I drew my hotshot and slowly advanced to the doorway. What I saw inside still gives me nightmares to this day. It looked as though an Ork mob had gone through the bridge, half the equipment was smashed to pieces and the remnants of the bridge crew were strewn across the room like grox meat in a butcher's shop.

"Merciful Emperor," Devian muttered between heavy gasp as he tried to keep his lunch down.

However, it wasn't the piles of mutilated corpses that had left Devian pale with terror and I completely dumb-struck. That honour was left to the hulking daemonic beast that now stood where the captain's chair used to be, complete with little bits of said captain dangling from between its massive, fang-laden maw. It was clear now what had transpired – it was a textbook case of a daemonic incursion, likely from the sudden expiration of the ship's navigator. And if the textbooks were anything to go by it also meant there was going to be a brief and very bloody massacre to follow. For what felt like an eternity, Devian and I merely stared at the horror, which lumbered on four muscular, canine-like legs, its numerous eyes burning with hatred and flooding the whole chamber with an air of malevolence. Copious amounts of black, tar-like pus oozed from its body, covering it in an oily coat that dripped to the floor like slow-melting snow, leaving one of the worst stenches in the air I had ever come across (and I once shared the backend of a chimera with Jurgen).

"Wh-what do we do?"

I'd like to blame Devian for getting the daemon's attention, since it swiveled its head straight in our direction and let loose a roar with such ferocity that it blew my cap right off its black-haired nest, but chances were it was going to notice us regardless. There was nothing left alive on the bridge aside from us and for all I knew it was aware of our presence the whole time.

"I shall feast upon your souls!" the daemon yelled in a voice that for some reason reminded me of an evil version of Haeg, except with a mouth full of blood and flesh instead of bread.

As a commissar, it was my duty to be the very embodiment of the Emperor's divine and uncompromising will and as a child of Krieg I was expected to be able to stare into the very face of Death and wave it hello. All that went out the airlock when it came to the thought of having my very soul defiled. "Leg it!"

Now any experienced general will tell a Guardsman straight away that when faced with a daemonic being the best strategy is to attack it like any other threat using lasfire on the smaller ones and heavier anti-tank weaponry on the larger beings. The reason, they would argue, is that any daemon in the material realm is as vulnerable to weapons fire as any other hideously large creature with hide as thick as tank armour and with enough firepower any daemon can be brought down. About ten percent of the time, this is the strategy employed. The rest of the time however, the real strategy is just to bog the daemon down to buy yourself time to do one of two things: bring in the biggest guns you've got or simply wait the daemon out. Since there were no big guns on this vessel my only hope to survive was to stall the bastard. Without a host and outside of the warp, the daemon would last for only a few minutes at best, which I can tell you from experience feels like a thousand years when the thing is trying to suck out your very essence.

Now my actions might have seemed a bit unbecoming of a commissar but there was tactical merit to my decision, regardless of the motives. I had a couple of laspistols and a terrified civilian at my disposal – what the frak was I going to do? If I were a lesser person I could've thrown Devian at him for the few brief seconds it would have bought me but I wasn't that heartless and, more specifically, not that desperate…yet.

After frantically firing my laspistol, we bolted down the hall with the daemon lumbering ferociously in pursuit. We tried shutting a few of the corridor doors behind us but the creature had no trouble bashing its way through them, though it did buy us a few seconds. Devian, his voice taking the first hint of hope since we started our mad dash for survival, pointed out a set of heavy-duty blast doors that were just up ahead. It wasn't a squad of daemon hunters but it was a start. As he dropped the blast doors I used a nearby terminal to try and access the ship's intercom. Thank the Emperor most runes of activation were the same across vessels so it didn't take me very long to get it online.

"This is Commissar Ariel Abel," I began, hearing my voice echo through the halls around me, "there has been a daemonic incursion on the bridge. All hands are to immediately arm themselves and make their way to the mess hall until further notification."

"The mess hall?"

"It's a big room, it's close by, and there's only one way in. Best shot we have of making it through this in one piece," I explained, reminded by a heavy thud at the blast door that there was still a big angry daemon trying to kill us.

When Devian shouted out that we were only a short distance from the mess hall, I foolishly allowed myself a brief, fleeting moment of hope that I was going to get out of this ordeal in one piece. Reality, though, came crashing down on top of us, or more specifically, it came crashing down on Devian in the form of a warp-spawned horror not much larger than a ketchit hound. It was stupid to think that only one daemon had managed to make it onto our ship and the little horror fell upon Devian with all the speed and fury of a Tyranid gaunt, tearing apart his chest with its massive sickle-like talons.

A daemon that small, though, was easy prey and it fell quickly to a well-placed bolt from my hotshot. It screeched loudly in pain as it fell to the ground, melting into the floor panels as it was dragged back to the hell it called home. For one of the few times in my life, though, I cursed myself for actually being too quick to act as I stared down at Devian who, through some twisted miracle, was still alive, if just barely. Alas, there was nothing I could do for him and I knew it the instant I saw his blood-smeared eyes staring back at me, pleading silently for help. Even if I could drag him to the mess hall without the daemon catching up to me, the medicae facility here was far too simple to be of any hope. I swallowed hard even though my mouth felt painfully dry all of a sudden. I said my farewells and gave him the only thing I could, the Emperor's Mercy, and continued on my way.

By that point, my surroundings were familiar enough that I could make my way to the mess hall without any guidance. Devian's death did, at least, warn me to the possibility of more of those scything little terrors and when I heard their distinct skittering in the grating above me I knew I was about to get company. Unfortunately, it was right at the worst possible time as a handful of those creatures dropped from an air vent, barring the route I needed to take. This time there was a good half-dozen of them at least (you'll understand if I didn't have time to take a head count) so I cut down the first side-corridor I could find, taking a moment to blast a few of them before continuing through the detour. So preoccupied was I with blasting my pursuers that I failed to notice that there was somebody up ahead of me and I didn't notice until I ran smack into her.

Letting out another string of unlady-like profanity, I quickly scooped up my laspistol and continued firing at the daemons behind me. Once the last one was dragged back to the Warp, I turned to address whoever had the audacity to ignore my orders, not to mention get in my way. The woman standing in front of me had to be one of the other passengers since she wore a rather tattered cloak and looked about as lost as I had been moments earlier.

"What the frak are you doing out here?" I demanded while glancing over my shoulder ever few seconds to make sure the hall was still clear.

"I…I was trying to find my way to the mess hall...and then…"

Her stammering was interrupted when I saw a few more daemons in pursuit, which I quickly popped with a trio of lasbolts to the face. "And lemme guess, you don't have a gun on your either." She shook her head, citing that she had never held a weapon a before. At the time, I figured she was just some grubby passenger trying to get to a more civilized planet in hopes of forging a better life, which just serves as testament to how unobservant I can get. I had neither the time nor the will to drag another civilian along, let alone a woman who looked to be on the verges of hysterics already. I was contemplating my choices when a loud screech from behind alerted me to the presence of another batch of little terrors.

She shrieked, quite loudly and directly into my ear to boot, "Do something!" What a master of the obvious, I thought, as I started blasting at the increasingly growing horde of monstrosities. "What are we going to do?" she shouted as she realized, just as I had, that standing my ground wasn't an option. I should have just shouted at her to run, bolted, and hoped that I could just run faster than her, but I was just too damn nice of a person to let that happen. Glancing around for an idea, I noticed a service tunnel off to the side. I took the woman by the hand and shoved her into the tunnel.

"Run, hide, and pray to the Emperor they don't find you," I ordered, slamming a nearby rune to shut the service entrance door, as well as putting a lasbolt into it just to be on the safe side. Why did I not follow her into the tunnel? I hate narrow spaces. I'm not claustrophobic but extremely narrow confines unnerve me, not to mention it left little room to move in case of an emergency and if there were more of those things in the tunnel ahead of her, I wouldn't be able to get a shot off with her in the way. That small act of charity would come back to haunt me and not just because it gave those creatures more time to close the gap on me.

As I continued on my not-so-merry away, I realized I was most likely heading further and further away from the mess hall, which left me cursing my previous actions as it meant that there was likely no help for me. All I had was a bunch of cargo holds and some empty quarters. Then truth dawned on me – I was on a cargo transport carrying, among other things, weapons and munitions for a Guard unit. I ducked into the first cargo hold I could find and prayed to the Emperor that it had something large and, preferably, highly explosive. Thankfully, the crates I was looking for were all conveniently labeled 'Danger: High Explosives' so they weren't hard to find.

Praise the Emperor, the first crate I opened up had an Imperial grenade launcher in it: explosives and multiple shots, which was just what I needed. I managed to load it up just as the little terrors came pouring into the cargo room, at which point I blasted the living frak out of them. It was at times like those that I wondered if I had missed my calling when I decided against joining the Adepta Sororitas, though I would always be prompt in reminding myself that I would've looked absolutely ridiculous in power armour.

"Well, that takes care of that little problem," I said with a slight hint of satisfaction.

Of course, as you'd expect, the moment I thought the worst of it was over, reality came tearing through the door like a mad grox. The bigger one had finally caught up to me and now it had me trapped inside a cargo hold. I leveled the grenade launcher, desperately trying to remember if I had fired five shots or six shots (in all that excitement, I kinda lost track), when a mucus-like tendril launched from its back and grabbed me by the leg. Then faster than you could say 'frak me' I was hoisted up into the air, dangling almost helplessly above it. I say almost because I had managed to keep a hold of the grenade launcher, not that it was doing me a lot of good as a second tendril had seized the arm which held it. As several more tendrils latched around my frame, I was reminded of a particularly disgusting holofilm that a friend of mine had shown me back in my schola days (when faced with death, your mind can wander in very strange directions). I could feel the creature beginning to work its dark sorcery, as ethereal tendrils began wrapping around my very mind, a cold emptiness spreading throughout my body.

Somehow, I managed to gather enough will to squeeze the trigger and I discovered that I had, indeed, only fired five shots earlier. The sixth went way off-course, hitting the ground before it had reached minimum distance and bounced back into the air. It must have landed right into the ammo crate I had pulled it from cause the next thing I knew there was a massive explosion and I was knocked into the air. By nothing short of a miracle, several other crates detonated in a similar fashion, no doubt cooking off grenades and bolter rounds in every direction. I don't know how I managed to not get hit in all the chaos but the fall did knock me senseless for a few moments. By the time I regained my senses, the daemon was being pulled back into the warp, its tendrils flailing in a vain attempt to keep a hold onto me and the material realm.

* * *

Our ship drifted for a little while until one of the other vessels in the convoy was able to give us a lift. Without any bridge crew and especially no navigator, there wasn't anybody left to man the ship the rest of the trip. A shuttle would eventually be sent back to retrieve the cargo but that didn't matter to me, as my mission's parcel went with me the rest of the way to Haud Reverto. Despite how horrid my trip was through the Warp, I had little interest in staying on that dirtball of a world and booked the first transport I could back home – this time managing to secure a ride on a military cruiser that happened to be heading in the right direction. Thankfully, the trip back was completely uneventful, which gave me time to reflect on my brush with death, not to mention finalize my after-action report. Since I didn't want to risk getting the attention of the Inquisition, I left out a few points, notably the part where the thing almost ate my soul like a hot grox sandwich.

Word apparently traveled faster than I did, as I was oddly greeted with jovial celebration when I returned to the office, with Haeg wrapping a flabby arm around my shoulder and pressing me against the folds of his flesh. He proclaimed something about how his keen intuition had first led him to seek my service, all between mouthfuls of sweetbun, and that we should all be honoured to have worked alongside me. Confusion didn't begin to describe how I felt, since I hadn't even submitted my after-action report so I was lost as to how they were aware of what had transpired on my little voyage.

While fellow commissars and various Administratum quill-pushers continued to applaud, Haeg led me back to his office where another equally well-endowed and heavily-awarded Commissar-General was waiting along with a scrawny little civilian who I learned later was a representative from the Munitorium.

"Commissar Abel, I want to introduce you to an old friend of mine, Commissar-General Higgins, the Hero of Baitin Hill," Haeg introduced, somehow managing to shower everyone except Higgins in bread flakes.

"It is quite an honour to meet you Commissar Abel," Higgins greeted as salutes and handshakes were exchanged. "Fine job you did there miss, first class if I do say."

"Um…pardon me sir for sounding a little stupid but…which job are you referring to?" I asked hesitantly, curiosity overriding my better judgment to just let things be.

"Why, the rescue of Lady Peche, of course."

"Who sir?"

Lady Peche, as you probably guessed, happened to be the ragged young lady that I had so hastily offloaded into a service tunnel back in that side corridor. Turned out the Lady Peche was the daughter of some inordinately wealthy governor, who happened to have a peculiar, and rather naïve, habit of taking her vacations in cognito in order to avoid what she considered to be the overly-obtrusive security detail her over-protective father would have otherwise insisted accompany her. Somehow she got the idea that after I had shoved her into the service tunnel, which turned out to be devoid of any daemonic creatures, I heroically took on the rest of them in order to cover her escape. That only got further embellished by the reports from the surviving crew members, who got it in their head after hearing the stories from Peche that I had done similar to the crew, stowing them away someplace safe while I single-handed purged the ship of its daemonic infestation.

Seriously, how in the warp did somebody get that crazy idea? Did people always embellish stories like that? I am a bit ashamed to admit that I didn't do much to argue with their claims, as perhaps a part of me really did want to think I could have planned all that out as heroically as they thought, not to mention it was getting me attention for something I did, rather than for something I was.

So, Higgins and Haeg decided that my talents would be better off put somewhere more useful, and by useful they meant dangerous. Frankly, the thought of being attached to a front line regiment was sort of appealing since any plan that got me away from Haeg was good enough for me. Higgins thought it would be 'do me proper' for me to be attached to a regiment where a true Hero of the Imperium could show how to fight His Majesty's enemies. After pestering me for some first-hand details of the incursion, I just handed over my after-action report, which just made things worse. If they thought I was a damned hero for fighting off a bunch of little ones, when they read about the big one they just thought I was the greatest thing to grace the Imperium since Ollanius Pius.

Eventually, I managed to weasel myself free of the two Commissar-Generals, who went about the favourite pastime of their kind, trading war stories and gloating about who ordered more heretics slaughtered (and of course omitting how devastated their regiments got in the process). Retreating to the safety of my desk, I was greeted by a warm mug of recaff and a friendly smile from Adders.

"Guess it was a good thing I let you have that assignment," he commented as he sat on the corner of my desk. "I probably would've run off screaming if I saw a bunch of daemons boarding the ship."

"I'm sure you would've done the same as I did," I insisted, partaking in the warmth of my mug. "How's Little Horus by the way?"

"Surprisingly more cooperative ever since you taught him not to mess with you." I laughed, relieved to hear that my outburst hadn't cost the office its recaff supply. "Did…you do something with your hair? It looks different."

I paused briefly, pretending to be puzzled as I glanced up at the white locks that now adorned the top of my head. My discovery of my hair's sudden change in hue occurred a while back, which had resulted in a startled shriek that, thankfully, nobody heard. The fact that even Adders didn't notice the obvious, or perhaps was way too polite to point it out right away, just confirmed my original reasons behind never mentioning it to anybody. Nobody noticed. I had long hoped that Adders, at the very least, would've noticed but, in the long run, it was better that he hadn't. It made lying about it all the easier.

"I had to get it trimmed a bit after all the scuffling. Thanks for noticing."

A week later I was back on board a transport on my way to rendezvous with the Emperor's Beneficence and the assignment that would change my life forever. I eventually told Commissar Cain the story, just shortly before he boarded the transports down to Adumbria, but I left out the near-soul-eating and hair thingie as well, though I would one day learn that keeping secrets from someone as astute as Cain was no simple task.


	3. THREE

**THREE**

As a general rule of thumb for commissars, unless you have a reputation like Cain, people are generally going to try and find new and inventive ways to stick it to you. Many times during my career I found myself sitting in medicae facilities or resting in my quarters for excruciating long periods nursing some miscellaneous injury. Most physicians, I realized, will avail themselves of any delay that could be safely taken to ensure a commissar stays off the field and away from his regiment. They would do that as a sort of favour to the regiment, who enjoy the time away from their commissar's whip. Of course, were I so inclined I could have simply picked up my things, marched out the door, and threatened to shoot anybody who got in my way. I had the authority to do that, after all. But while I may have been a commissar, I was not a doctor and I had little understanding of how my body worked. At the time my knowledge of medicine could be boiled down to one simple phrase'don't get shot.'

Thus, when the doctor told me to take the next few weeks off from battlefield duties so I didn't strain my injuries, I went with their judgment. I remained aboard the Emperor's Beneficence toiling away at any work I could scrounge up, even going so far as to start pestering the ship's captain take some of the load off of him by managing disciplinary forms. I had no authority on a naval ship, of course, but he said I was free to act as an advisor so long as it kept the dataslates off his desk for a while and out of his hair.

I had been reassured several times that my new biotic eye was being fixed up by a techpriest and would be ready for installation in a few weeks. The biotic required plenty of extra scans, tests, and blessings to ensure it functioned properly, Again, I was no doctor and definitely no techpriest so I had no idea if they were telling me the truth or just taking whatever chance they could to mess with me. The weeks, however, began to drag on and from what I could tell from the reports I got from the 597th, things were going relatively smoothly on the planet's surface, though they had been running into problems with their investigations as to the source of the heretical incursion on the planet. Occasionally, when boredom began to take a firm hold of me, I petitioned the doctor's to reconsider their original assessment of my condition but they remained steadfast. In my youth, I was far too naïve and trusting…I should've just told them to frak off and went on my way. Of course, if I had that route then things would have turned out drastically different for me.

Toiling away aboard the Emperor's Beneficence was tedious at the best of times. Without any Guardsmen aboard there was little for me to do and no one for me to socialize with. Navy boys weren't too interested in dealing with commissars. On the bright side, though, I didn't have to worry much about the Valhallans and how I would make myself a part of their regiment. No doubt they were equally content that I was stuck out in orbit. Cain's passing remarks about the weather in Glacier Peak served to further reassure me of my decision to remain in orbit during the campaign. My brain probably would have frozen solid if I had to fight outdoors on the dark side of Adumbria, which was all the more likely with only a few centimeters of bone and flesh separating my brain from the outside weather thanks to the newly excavated crater in my face. Between freezing every fluid in my body down in Glacier Peak or stewing in utter boredom in orbit, it was obvious to me which was the better choice. Of course, it was a decision that I revisited when the heretic fleet arrived in full force. The fleet was mostly comprised of large transport vessels escorted by some cruisers and one hell of a large battleship. Freezing started to seem like a better alternative as the days passed and the fleet drew closer, the heretical battleship plowing through our outer defenders without giving them a passing thought. I had only a small window of opportunity to make my decision – stay aboard the troopship and hope we didn't get blown out of orbit or commandeer a courier vessel and make my way to the planet's surface.

It was a tough call but I figured that my chances for survival were pretty even either way, so the only factor to consider was the death itself. Even if I did manage to make it to the starport in the planetary capital of Skitterfall, it was going to soon be overrun with heretics and the same went with Glacier Peak or if I felt crazy and decided to go down to the hot side to the Tallarns. There was a good chance I'd get gunned down or chopped to pieces if I went groundside. In orbit, however, I had no ability to defend myself and was sitting aboard a troopship, which was only lightly armed, about as maneuverable as a brick and sittingjust a touch to the left of the last and largest torpedo magnet remaining in orbit. The possibility of transferring over the Indestructible, the battle cruiser still parked in orbit to protect us, had crossed my mind briefly but being aboard the highest priority target seemed like an even less-desirable situation. At the very least, if I died out in space it would be swift…or so I assumed. I knew very little of the effects of being sucked out into the vacuum of space, though I imagined the chilling temperatures would make it a very brief affair.

In the end, I decided to just stay put and take my chances aboard the troopship. Hell, I could even catch a nap while I waited for the fireworks to start. A part of me sort of envied Cain at that moment, at least being able to be in the thick of it all and having far more control over his destiny than I did at the moment. Though when I read some of his after-action reports, I was glad to have been declared by the doctors unfit to fight.

For the most part, the Emperor Beneficence managed to get out of the ensuing orbital battles relatively unscathed. I had been awoken at first by the general alarms but considering there was nothing I could do to change things, I merely grabbed some plugs and tried to get some more rest. I figured if I was going to die, I could do that just as easily in my sleep. By the time I awoke once more, the fighting had passed with the battleship apparently blown apart by some clever tactics on the part of the Indestructible's captain. As more and more reports began to filter back to the ships, I kept an eye out for battlefield reports in hopes that the regiment would remain intact enough for me to rejoin them. As I had hoped, and partly expected from my first impressions of them, the Valhallans had pulled through remarkable well and I was able to catch a courier down to Skitterfall within a few days after the end of general combat.

By the time I caught up with Cain, he seemed in remarkable good spirits despite everything that I had heard. Beije had apparently cooked up some bogus accusations against him, which were summarily dismissed as a load of grox shit by a tribunal. A pity I never got an opportunity to see how that little pious asshole reacted to the news.

"Well look who finally made it to the planet," Cain said cheerfully when he spotted me approaching. I found him with Kasteen and Broklaw, both of whom looked well despite the chaos that had briefly engulfed the planet.

"Depth perception is one of those things you never appreciate until you pour hot recaff on your lap," I joked as I fell in step with them, though I didn't know where they were heading off to as of yet. "I heard you were very busy sir – bagging a couple of chaos marines and a daemon to boot."

"I had help," he replied, modestly shrugging his shoulders as if standing against a space marine in close quarters was as simple as putting down a domesticated grox.

"Still haven't gotten your biotic yet?" Broklaw asked when he noticed that I still had a large piece of gauze taped onto my face. I shrugged indifferently. With the worst of the fighting over I lost any interest in getting the eye replaced in a hurry. And, as I mentioned to the major, the surgeons had their hands full treating all the wounded so my case was even less of a priority than it would normally be.

Cain eventually led us to a little restaurant, which was tucked away in what appeared to be an older quarter of the city judging by the more rustic architecture and the fine wood trimming that lined the restaurant's doors and windows. Aside from a section of the restaurant that had been accidentally renovated into a patio section, the restaurant had managed to survive the worst of the invasion. The front of the restaurant looked fine…until I noticed that the large glass panes that flanked the front door were completely absent, likely due to whatever blew apart the heretical tank whose wreckage still sat on the street nearby. I noticed a few juvies gawking at the ruined machine with curious fascination before being shooed away by a nearby Guardsman, who saluted when he noticed the four of us walking by.

The inside of the restaurant itself was still a work in progress, though most of the debris from the semi-collapsed roof had been cleared away along with any bodies (as I noticed a few red stains still persisting in the wood flooring). Chairs and tables had been neatly arranged as expected, although aside from ourselves and the owners the place was quite empty. Speaking of the owner, he was overjoyed to see us coming through the door, which upon closer examination was barely attached the doorframe. Like many citizens of Adumbria, he had nothing but gratitude to lavish upon us with, not to mention all the food and drink, my companions were happy to receive.

We helped ourselves to a booth next to where a front window used to be, thus granting us a pleasant view of the streets, as well as the wrecked tank, and giving us the option to chat up any Guard officers or troopers that happened to pass by. Kasteen and Broklaw took the opportunity to share with me some of the finer points of the Valhallans' part in the campaign. The owner of the restaurant was true to his word, too, as he brought over copious amounts of what he called 'his finest' dishes and, to nobody's surprise, the moment Cain's name came up the man was pretty much over himself in awe. As usual, Cain did his best to play down the constant stream of platitudes but he did manage to get the owner to break out a well-aged bottle of amasec for us to enjoy, which we most certainly did.

It was over my second glass of amasec when I noticed a few Guardsmen across the street, likely on their routine patrol; they bore the trenchcoats and hanging gasmasks of a Krieg Death Corp and I was overjoyed at the prospect of being able to mingle with fellow Kriegans. Broklaw must have followed my gaze because he looked over in the same direction and let out a quiet groan of veiled unease.

Cain, ever the observant individual, was first to react as I had been so relieved at the sight of the Kriegans that I had only just barely noticed Broklaw's reaction. "Something wrong major?"

"Hm?" Broklaw must have been surprised to notice Cain's quick response, though from what I learned over time the major was not a man who kept his thoughts inside. "It's nothing really, just those Death Corp guys bother me."

"What's wrong with the Death Corp?" I asked. Broklaw must have mistaken my confusion for naivety.

"Most of them are clones for starters and I've never liked the idea of clones. There's a reason it's so restricted," Broklaw explained. "They're pretty dull to talk to too…usually going on about death and duty like they're actually looking forward to dying on the battlefield. Those Kriegans are just…well overly depressing. It's really annoying."

"You do know that I'm from Krieg," I finally revealed to the major, whose embarrassment was quickly evident by his fluster. The fact that I was sitting in the booth next to him didn't help matters either, not that I actually took any offense to what Broklaw said. If anything, he did have a bit of a point – cloning was barred in the Imperium for a reason, Kriegans were a rather gloomy bunch as a whole, and the Death Corp do go on about it a fair bit about death and duty. For people not familiar with Krieg and its history, these all would seem to be rather puzzling. To me though, these seemed rather matter of fact and likely no different than how a Cadian viewed their own place in the Imperium.

For you readers unaware of the nature of Krieg and its people, I'll give you the quick summary (if you hadn't already looked it up in another text since I have mentioned it repeatedly already): Krieg underwent a civil war that lasted for centuries and resulted in enough nuclear devastation to get Krieg reclassified as a death world. That civil war, though, bred the descendants of Krieg into the fierce fighting race they are today and our reputation for remaining stalwart even in the face of overwhelming odds earned our planet the right to clone its population in order to bolster its numbers. Sure, we Kriegans can be a gloomy bunch at times but you rarely had to worry about morale…we didn't have any to start with so there is no effort required to maintain it. Members of the Death Corp don't care if they live or die…just so long as it's in service to the Emperor.

"You're not going to tell me you're a clone too?" Broklaw said when he recovered from his slight embarrassment.

"Emperor no, I was born the old fashion way," I insisted, though to be honest if it were the case I could have gone through most of my life without knowing. "According to my father, I wasn't actually born on Krieg."

"Then where?" Kasteen asked, though my only answer was a shrug. I was never told and quite frankly I didn't care. I might not have been born on Krieg but I was just as much a child of it. Where I was born exactly never came up in any discussions with my dad and, given the circumstances surrounding my birth, I could just have easily been born on a ship in transit, which wasn't too uncommon for people.

"All I know is that I was conceived while my dad was on deployment to some isolated rock circling a dying star and when I was born I was handed over to dad who took me back to his home on Krieg."

"And your mother"

Again, all I had for them was another shrug. "Died years ago from what my dad told me. Kind of a shame, he also spoke so fondly of her…but I gathered both of them were too married to their duties to ever really make a proper family. Apparently mom would have made even worse parenting material than my old man."

"What did you mother do exactly?"

"Seraphim I'm told."

I never get many opportunities to surprise people, least of all to the extent that I did that day. Cain nearly choked on his amasec when I mentioned that, while Kasteen and Broklaw simply stared at me in disbelief. You didn't see many commissars that had a mother in the Adepta Sororitas and, as far as I know, I'm still the only one. The fact that most daughters had a tendency to follow their mothers into the Sororitas just made my case all the rarer. I like to think that I inherited my fierce dedication and determination from her but more likely I probably just got her temper and penchant for solving difficult problems by blasting the frak out of it.

* * *

Anybody who has ever had to get an eye replaced can understand the period of adjustment I had to go through, as can anybody whose ever gotten a limb replaced. Just like how a man who has had his arm replaced will spend the next few days bumbling his recaff and cursing his shoelaces, I had to adjust to life seeing things in a slightly different light.

My surgery for my new biotic eye did not occur for several more weeks as more life-threatening matters took precedence. Even then it still took me a few days of nagging, and maybe a casual threat or two, before I finally got my surgery booked and checked into the medicae facility. With Skitterfall slowly returning to normalcy, I was able to make use of the civilian facilities rather than the makeshift medicae facility used by the Guard surgeons. The process went smoothly as I'm told and by the end of the day I was playing with my new toy, which was now wired into my brain. I had opted for the smallest model that my modest salary could afford and thanks to a surprisingly generous donation from Penlan, who continued to apologize profusely for years afterwards, I was able to afford a high-quality model that I was told would last longer than I would. As it turned out it wouldn't outlast me but the doctor couldn't have predicted the kind of things I would subsequently put it through over the years.

I had spent the weeks before worrying that the process would look awkward and cumbersome, not to mention prove problematic for my usual habit of regularly wearing my gas mask but when the doctor handed me a mirror I was pleasantly surprised at the result. Most of the scarred tissue had been covered up with a thin metal plate that encircled my orbit in a c-shape, ending just at the edges of my nose. Several barely noticeable wires were visible below the surface of my skin, sloping down the pit of my eye socket and into the small, ocular unit that had been fitted into place. The lens unit itself had a very low profile, much to my surprise, and it barely protruded out from the socket. In fact, if it had a rounded dome and I still had an eyelid left, it probably could have fit right under it, giving me the ability to blink once more.

Speaking of blinking, that was one of the toughest things to get used to with a biotic eye – you can't 'close' that eye so there is a constant feed of information no matter what you did. Most people, myself included, find a odd sense of relief in being able to shut one's eyes and plunge everything in darkness, even if its for just a moment. That wasn't quite the case anymore. When I blinked I could still see the world around me; when a bright light forced me to squint I could still see everything. Unless I turned the eye off directly, I would still get images even when I slept (if one could get to sleep with an active biotic eye). That sensory overload was difficult to adjust to at first and it resulted in a frustration with your predicament and your only option is to get used to it.

The second problem was the slight sense of double-vision that comes from the fact that the new eye could see with far better clarity than my natural one. In fact, when I first got it installed the techpriest had the lenses adjusted improperly and I could barely see straight. A few adjustments later, though, and I just had the normal sense of double-vision. Again, it is something that you have to get used to and after a few weeks I barely even noticed the sensory difference.

Once I had adjusted to it, though, I started to forget about it altogether and it felt as natural as the rest of my body, save for the fact I need to clean the lens every so often. My position of authority even afforded me some addendums that normally aren't available in the civilian market, including an increased in spectral sensitivity, including low-light and thermal, and a small tactical uplink. Were I so inclined, and I was half-tempted when the techpriest explained it, to get the full tactical upgrade package but that required I get a few chips installed into my brain and a larger ocular unit, which I really didn't want. Being able to see enemies a bit more clearly was enough of an advantage for me.

Now I had never considered myself to be vain or insecure about my personal appearance; I spent what I figured was an average amount of time grooming myself in the morning if time permitted and I never worried about my appearance save for what was required by Commissarial codes of dress and deportment. Besides, if I were a victim of vanity, I would have had far more concerning issues than just my biotic eye. Still, I spent the days after my surgery staring aimlessly into the mirror, as though I was trying to will myself to accept my new appearance. I spent an inordinate amount of time sitting in my billet in Skitterfall, which Cain was kind enough to arrange for me in a hotel that the lord general had been using as his headquarters, making liberal use of any reflective surface I could find. It was almost to the point where it was getting hazardous for me to just pass a reflective piece of dinnerware. I would have had to settle on the drastic measure of covering up all the mirrors had it not been a well-timed intervention.

"Maybe I should have insisted on the brass plating," I muttered idly, running a fingertip along the c-shaped metallic plate that encircled my eye. The piece of metal had a steel-like finish to it, which blended in well when I let my hair down, though I wondered if the yellow-brown tone of brass would better blend with my complexion. After you've stared at your face in a mirror for almost an hour you find yourself focusing on the smallest little details and, like pretty much every one else in the universe, I was particularly critical regarding the image that stared back at me.

I only turned away from the vanity mirror when I heard somebody knocking on the door. A few moments later I was greeted to the sight of Major Broklaw. I admit, I was a little surprised to see him and he too seemed a bit uncertain as to whether or not he should be there.

"My apologies, Commissar Abel, I'm not interrupting you am I?" he asked politely, probably noticing I was still holding the mirror.

"Oh, this? Nothing serious…just adjusting to me the new me," I answered honestly, figuring that a bit of openness would help ease my transition into the Valhallans, since it had been so abruptly interrupted the first time around. "What can I do you for Major?"

"Commissar Cain asked for me to deliver these to you," he explained, handing over a couple of dataslates. This act left me entirely confused and it was one of the last things I had expected from Broklaw. Anybody could've dropped off a pile of dataslates and if they were from Cain he could have had his aide accomplish that easily. What was Broklaw doing playing courier? If Cain was involved, I had to suspect that there were some angles being played.

"Since when did you become his messenger?" I replied, making no attempt to hide my skepticism. Broklaw probably didn't expect me to buy his original reason as he didn't seem too surprised by my response. I offered the major a seat but he didn't take, which led me to believe he didn't plan on staying for very long.

"To be frank, a few of us were concerned – you hadn't been outside your room for several days now," Broklaw explained. Whether they were genuinely concerned for my well-being or simply didn't want to risk me going topside (another Krieg saying, derived from the saying 'going topside in the buff,' which was a reference to somebody being either incredibly stupid or completely insane), I couldn't tell. Still, for Broklaw of all people to come it seemed out of place; a lackey could have checked on me to similar effect.

"Aw, Ruput, I didn't know you cared," I joked sarcastically. When I noticed he bristled at the remark, I decided it'd be better not to scoff at it. "Seriously, I'm fine. It's just taking me a little getting used to the changes, that's all." I emphasized the point by taking another glance into the mirror, poking and prodding lightly at my eye's periphery as though I still had trouble believing it was an inseparable part of me now. "It just looks weird…you know what I mean? Plus, I've been lucky so far that nobody's caught wind of what actually happened but with Corporal Penlan still spouting apologies like a fountain people are going to start asking questions and then I'm going to be a laughing stock around here."

"You're worrying too much," Broklaw reassured me.

"Easy for you to say, you don't have people snickering when you're trying to discipline people half a head taller than you."

"It's better than what Cain had to deal with when he first got attached," Broklaw explained, chuckling lightly under his breath as he reminisced on those memories. What my original briefing slates had failed to mention was just how fractured the original regiment was when it was formed from the existing elements of the 296th and 301st, which Cain subsequently had to deal with. Apparently, they were literally at each other's throats but Cain somehow managed to glue the pieces together into a fighting regiment that was worthy of its reputation on the battlefield. I truly would have been in over my head if I had to instill discipline in a regiment that unruly.

With my insistence that my mental health was in good order, I half-expected Broklaw to head out again to rejoin the rest of his regiment in their usual nightly celebration of victory over the heretics (celebrations that continued every night for quite some time judging by the number of disciplinary reports I had to file). However, he remained as he was, suggesting that there was still something left to unload on me and the true reason for his presence.

"The planetary regent has organized a gala of sorts to properly celebrate the planet's successful defense," Broklaw explained. The news didn't come as much of a surprise, save for my curiosity as to why it had taken so long to organize one (apparently a crashing shuttle clipped the roof of the governor's palace, collapsing a section of the building's west wing). "The senior staffs from all the Guard regiments are being asked to attend."

"Be sure to smuggle a few bottles out for the troops. They deserve as much credit as the rest of you," I said dismissively, knowing full well where he was going with this and trying to subtly steer it away from me.

"Cain felt it would rude to leave you out of the festivities as you are part of the senior staff."

"True…but I didn't do anything. I sat in a bed and jiggled my mask during the entire campaign."

"Like any of them will know that," Broklaw said, shrugging dismissively at the prospect of lying to the nobility of Adumbria, not that any of us cared about the opinions of those disgustingly wealthy oafs. Nonetheless, the major argued a good point and if Cain felt strongly about my presence then I had to put my trust in the commissar's judgment. When I asked him for the date, he gave me a smirk that bordered on devious and answered that I had an hour to get ready to go. "Cain suggested that if we gave you less time in advance to prepare, you'd be more decisive," he explained when my shock at the news became self-evident in my expression. I think he enjoyed the look on my face a bit too much.

"I guess I have no choice," I sighed lightly, running a checklist through my head of what I'd need to do in order to make myself properly presentable for a formal occasion. On one hand there wasn't any time to get my uniform properly cleaned but the good news was my absence in the campaign meant it was still immaculate and only required a quick pressing. My eyes drifted back to the mirror, as if I had to check once again to make sure that I still had a biotic eye. Suddenly, Broklaw pulled the mirror from my grip and proceeded to smash it against the wall as though he was a christening a new cruiser. "I'll um…get started on my boots then," I acquiesced as the major handed the mirror's frame back to me.

"We'll meet you out front in an hour."

Since I didn't have any option, other than risking losing all credibility with Cain and the others, I tidied myself up as best I could and met the others outside. Once again I must give credit to Cain and his uncanny ability to understand the subtleties of those working around him. Were he not so charismatic and his reputation so firmly grounded, he could probably have twisted the entire command staff of the 597th around his finger with this unparalleled skill of his. Hell, he could have been the most self-serving, hedonistic bastard in the universe and we wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. Putting me out into the public, least of all surrounded by scores of people who pretty much made it their life's goal to be as shallow as humanly possible, forced me to put trivialities like my insecurities aside to focus on the task of getting through the evening with my dignity intact. And, as Cain no doubt expected, during the whole night the issue of my eye never became a problem for me barring a few moments when people asked if I had lost my eye during the conflict; I aimed to be as vague as possible, commenting that I simply took a lasbolt to the eye when I had a lapse in concentration and left out the minor detail of 'it was from my own troops' and 'days before the assault' out of the conversations.

By the night's end Cain's plan had come full circle and I had lost all concern about how my new look might adversely affect people's reaction to me. Such big social affairs weren't really my thing but I managed to hold my own, following friendly advice from Kasteen and hiding behind Broklaw's blunt mannerisms whenever I needed a break from the civvies. I saw little of Cain that night and I half-suspected that some nobilite's impressionable young daughter had ushered him away from the crowds. All the better for him I suppose. I did my best to stick close to the colonel and major for the night, though the sight of a woman in commissarial garbs did attract the usual sort of attention, not to mention endless remarks of people who 'didn't think there were any women in the commissariat.'

Within an hour I wanted to punch the next dignitary to make that remark regardless of their gender, rank or status. Cooler heads, and a helping of quality amasec, prevailed thankfully.

The night would leave me with many memories that I would carry over the decades – some bad, a lot good, and a few that would trouble me for the following years.

Not that in the aftermath I had such time to think about those things. By the end of the next month our regiment was told to pack its bags and get on board the transport in orbit because there were still worlds in danger and the enemies of the Imperium never slept.


	4. FOUR

**FOUR**

Although everybody in the 597th had been thoroughly enjoying their opportunity to relax in the aftermath of the Adumbira campaign, they knew that at any time orders could come from above and rain on their little parade. Perhaps that was why they siezed every night as opportunity to celebrate. We had spent a few months getting the wounded back into fighting condition, reorganizing squads and units as casualties and promotions necessitated, and got as many of the chimeras up and running again. Thankfully, we managed to receive a resupply shipment before we were redeployed so a fresh influx of equipment, munitions, and mostly importantly, fresh new recruits filled our ranks and supply bins to the brim. Despite all of us being on the same planet, only two of the original five regiments were selected to participate in this new campaign – ours and the 22nd Kastaforian Heavy Infantry, who absorbed a few platoons' worth of men from their sister regiment in order to be brought to full fighting capacity. Along with us came a new Guard regiment formed from elements of the Adumbrian PDF that had performed admirably in the defense of the planet. Praise, free food, and limitless access to the parties of the nobility were all well and good but I always preferred a planet to give thanks by supplying a new regiment for the Imperium. Similar to the 597th, the Adumbrians were all veterans of intense combat, which meant at least we weren't getting a regiment of competent rookies. We still didn't quite trust them, though, as they were still considered PDF in everything except name and uniform.

But a servant to the Emperor is a servant nonetheless, even if their best attribute was not getting killed when all hell broke loose. Hopefully their leaders will be able to bang their heads together and make enough brain cells to work sufficiently long enough to make it through the next campaign in one piece. After their formation, we were warned that they would be on the next deployment so we were resigned to the pending problems and confusion that they were invariably going to cause. I remained hopeful, though, that they would manage to surprise us in the end. Well we would certainly be surprised just not how we wanted to be.

As the regiment was formed from the reminants of no less than twenty-one different PDF regiments, friction between the officers, soldiers, platoons, and even squads was to be expected. No prizes in figuring out who was the first person to be asked to help organize the new regiment and smooth out the ruffles. And in traditional fashion, that task was immediately passed from Cain to me and apparently, I was expected to be grateful for the opportunity. As most PDF units wouldn't know a commissar from an overly dressed nobleman, it was my job to make sure that the unit was given its crash course lecture in adherence to the Imperial creed. Cain recommended a few tactics for me, a mixture of complimenting and fear-invoking in order to ensure that the prospect of their first deployment didn't scare the shit out of them and I assume lead to dessertions.

I first full and formal meeting with the 9th Adumbrian Light Infantry Regiment a few weeks before we were to ship out. However I had briefly met with individual squads and platoons prior to the formal gathering. I was greeted by their colonel, Trevek was his name if I recall correctly. He had been praised for his tactical insight during the planet's defense, which was how he earned the honour of taking his fellow Adumbrians off-world, though he struck me as a bit brazen and probably a fan of too many old war holofilms. He would have to learn how to think more conservatively if he was going to be an effective leader. Unlike PDF units, Guard regiments could go a decade without getting fresh recruits, if they managed to live long enough to get any. Trevek might have been able to be reckless with the lives of his men before, thanks to having your main source of recruits all around you, but as a Guard regimental commander he would have to learn restraint or die with the rest of his men.

"Listen up you maggots!" Trevek shouted to the thousands of Guardsmen now standing at attention on a large rockcrete plot that used to belong to a nearby arena but was now just a pile of rubble. "This here is Commissar Abel and she's here to make sure you sorry lot have the stuff to be proper Guardsmen. So you better listen up or Emperor help me you're going to wish the heretics had gotten ya!" We stood on a raised platform at one end of the lot with a small vox unit set up so we wouldn't have to yell to get their attention (though Trevek did anyways). It may have been a bit unnecessary but his volume did get their attention, which he somehow managed to attain even though his teeth remained firmly fixed around an ever present lit lho stick. His method of gripping the lho stick in his teeth left him with a permanate devilish grin , which I found to be wholely unsettling.

I was a little taken back by the sheer mass of people standing before me. The 597th was just over two thousand troops but this regiment numbered in the several thousands of troops, probably due to the expectation that a large chunk of them wouldn't come back after the first deployment. Rows upon rows of young men stood at attention, or at least their best attempt at it. While gazing at the sea of men I easily and quickly spotted at least a dozen uniform infractions in the first row of troops. I could also see the pride in their eyes and honestly couldn't really blame them for it. Standing together as an newly formed Imperial Guard regiment, their flak armour and uniforms new with polished buttons and clips (and were no longer an unsightly collage of pastels like their former PDF garbs) soon to embark on their first deployment that would forever shape the history of their regiment…if it lasted that long.

"First off, let me just congratulate you on your accomplishments," I began, fighting down every nervous pang in my gut. Public speaking wasn't one of my strong suits and I hadn't addressed a group this large since…well, ever. "A few months ago you were a bunch of PDF kids who could have been considered nothing more than over-glorified praetors. But that was before the Ravagers came and your valour and determination helped keep this planet safe. You men proved yourselves to be worthy of carrying the title of Imperial Guardsmen, to be given the honour to defend His Imperium. I implore you to take a moment and congratulate yourself and those around you, for only the finest of the PDF are ever given this honour." I decided to leave out the fact that a Guard unit could strip a world of the bulk of its PDF troops in times of desperation but I wasn't going to rain on their parade; it was going to be one of the few things that would keep them motivated.

I noticed their faces all swelled with pride at my opening remarks but they surprisingly remained at attention despite what I had said. "No, seriously …congratulate the Guardsman standing to your left and work your way clockwise. I insist. I'll wait." That gentle prod was enough to get them moving and the crowd of several thousand turned into a bustling sea of chatter as the troopers carried out my instructions. What friction was present would hopefully start to melt away as few things brought a unit closer together than the acknowledgment of shared hardships. Just knowing the man beside you went through the same hell as you did wonders for respect, even if the day before you hated his guts. The first phase of Cain's suggested plan worked – I had boosted their confidence and reminded them of their unique position which they could hold on to with pride. Of course, now that the congratulations were out of the way it was time to get down to business and show them what it meant to be a regiment of his Divine Majesty's Imperial Guardsmen. Now came the second phase, the part where I can get to smash their ego into little pieces and get them pissed off at me. Apparently, according to Cain, the second-best thing to unite people was through mutual disdain In this case by making me the focus of that disdain. Normally I would disagree with such a tactic that seemed to run counter-intuitive with what both Cain and I had similar philosophies on – not treating soldiers like expendable pawns – but he was very reassuring and stated he used a similar strategy with the 597th when he first started with them.

"Got that all out of your system?" I asked rhetorically, snapping all the soldiers back into attention, once again with surprising tone and redirection back to discipline. I got the feeling that Colonel Trevek had drilled his troops to the bone before presenting them to me, likely from having heard from other regimental commanders that a commissar was liable to shoot the CO if their regiment was too sloppy (most wouldn't actually even consider that given the paperwork it would incur, not to mention guaranteed you of a lasbolt to the back at the earliest opportunity from the soldiers). "Good. Because that is the last time you're going to be congratulated for anything until after the victory parade of your next campaign. Which judging from the look of you, many of you will not be attending. From here on out you men are Imperial Guardsmen and I damn well expect you to look, behave and act like it. General Kolbe told me you were the best so I expect precision, discipline, and order, or else I will be very disappointed in you. Trust me, I am the last person you want to disappoint otherwise I will be the last person you disappoint. You may have gotten away with tussled uniforms, dirty weapons, unkept kit and sleeping through night patrols but the Emperor demands finer from his Guardsmen. You!"

Immediately, I pointed to a soldier at random in the front few rows knowing full well that if a commissar really wanted to, he could find something wrong with a soldier's attire. The soldier in question, Wyntirs I think his name was, looked absolutely terrified when I singled him out, not to mention the soldiers standing immediately to his left and right looking as though they had just dodged a bullet. "I count three buckles on that flak vest that aren't done up properly, both sleeve buttons are undone, and I'm willing to bet your month's salary that your boots aren't done properly either."

I couldn't see his boots, of course, but I once again banked on the all-too-likely possibility that they weren't done up properly given that nobody gives a shit about boot straps unless you're a drill sergeant. "Now would the Guardsman like to step forward to show me his boots or would he rather have ten minutes to return to his barracks and fix himself properly?"

Though barely above a squeak, Wyntirs managed to answer his choice for the second option, of course. I told him to run for it and be back in ten minutes or it'd be hell to pay. I also instructed the soldier standing to his left to time him and inform me if he was over ten minutes. It may have been a little harsh of me to single the one soldier out where there were plenty of equally atrocious displays of uniform around him…and it was probably even worse of me to tell the soldier to run back to the barracks given that they were at least fifteen minutes away by foot, one way. I wanted to see how he would react when he realized he'd be at least thirty minutes late and winded to boot. If he lied then at least he had the balls to lie right to a commissar's face; if he came back late regardless then at least he had the discipline to accept responsibility for his actions; if he never came back then…well, then I would actually have to chase after him and do something about it. He did eventually come back, completely winded, and tried to explain his tardiness between gasps of breath. Since I had set him up to fail I didn't bother with a harsh punishment other than a few days of latrine duty. Last I heard of Wyntirs he was a major in a stormtrooper regiment so kudos to him wherever he is now if he's still alive.

"As for the rest of you," I turned my attention back to the others, who were now looking a bit uneasy. "You think you're all top dogs now that you managed to kick a bunch of heretics off your world, eh? I got some sad news for you bunch; a little bit of heretic is barely the worst this galaxy can dish out. You may have lasted against an unorganized mob of blood-thirsty madmen with about as much aim as a blind ogryn but the real test comes when you're up against xenos with technology that makes your lasguns look like torches or with numbers so vast they swallow whole plains. What separates real Guardsmen from wannabe PDF boys is how you respond when a horde of Ork marauders is about to crash upon your lines like a green tidal wave. This time you held your own against an invasion of heretics – a real Guards unit could do that and sustain a third less casualties you people did. You have proven worthy of gaining the title of Imperial Guardsmen but the real question remains whether you're worthy enough to keep it."

I like to think I sounded far more menacing than I probably was in truth but I believe the effect was the same nonetheless. That confidence I had built up seconds ago was almost shattered, half of them wondering whether they had really been given an honour or a death sentence, but from that uncertainty they were going to be rebuilt into a proper unit. Otherwise, they were at best useless to everybody and at worst a liability to everyone around them. The other half looking aggravated, which was to be expected since I pretty much spat in the face of the praise I said they so rightly deserved; good, I thought, let them be angry.

"I've spoken with some of the other regimental commissars and commanders…most of them express a lot of doubt about your new regiment. You're being compared to whitestripes at best, canon fodder at worst. If you don't prove them wrong, none of you are going to live long enough to see retirement. Of course, everyone dies eventually so it's really a question of how you want to be remembered – the pride of your world or its embarrassment? Right now I'm leaning towards the latter."

I went on a little longer, making half-baked remarks about how none of the other Guard regiments were going to be taking them seriously, that some of units were taking bets on how many Adumrbians would be executed for cowardice, and generally anything I could think of to make them pissed as hell at the other regiments and ready to take on Horus himself if it meant proving themselves. Somewhere along the line I had thrown in Cain's name and how he was one of the only men who believed in their regiment and that he had staked his reputation on their success. It got them more motivated but I really wished I hadn't gotten Cain involved in it. It would have saved me a lot of grief down the road.

I ended my little speech explaining to them that what I saw before me was a mess and that if I seriously inspected them now I would have to borrow the Colonel's laspistol just to complete all the executions. I gave them, and the Colonel, a week to get the unit into proper order and that every soldier I found a fault in their uniform or kit would equate to a lap around the starport for the whole regiment. A week gave them plenty of time to deal with every little unpolished button and improperly tied shoelace and kept them out of my hair for a while. With any luck, and for a change it was to be on my side, the commissars that had been dispatched to be permanently attached to them would arrive.

Figuring that any mess I may have made would be the concern of the new commissars, I could leave the Adumbrians in their hands. That was my first mistake. The two commissars they sent must have drawn the short straws at the Commissariat because I wouldn't have trusted them to watch over my mess kit, let alone a newly formed regiment of armed troopers. The first, and more senior, was Commissar Wren: a lanky, balding, and borderline psychotic man with a slight delusion of grandeur. Rumor was he once cut a man's arm off and beat him to death with it. Oddly enough, he was often the easier of the two to deal with as his counterpart was Commissar Stimpsen, a man who didn't just fly in the face of logic but did bombing runs over it while singing 'Happy, happy, boom, boom!' The man was dangerously competent and I use the term 'dangerously' because half the time he didn't fully understand what was going on. Hell, I'm surprised he knew which end of a laspistol to point at enemies (or 'ze baddies' as he called them). According to a colleague's story, Stimpsen's platoon was once tasked with eliminating an enemy tank column. Well, under Stimpsen's 'leadership,' the platoon managed to blow up an entire city block and still missed the tanks (apparently by sending the wrong firing coordinates for the artillery barrage), only to be saved when a collapsing building managed to wipe out half the column, forcing the remainder to retreat. Trying to claim victory in such a blithering display of idiocy and sheer dumb luck is beyond words…

I honestly felt a little bad for the Adumbrians, who had less of a chance of making it through their first deployment now that they were under the commissarial guidance of the human equivalents of a live hand grenade and a rock. Cain reassured me that it wasn't my concern and attempting to intervene would only undermine the troop's confidence in their current commissars no matter how incompetent I thought the two of them were. That was my other mistake.

* * *

"So that's them?" Cain commented rhetorically as we stood in the starport; trucks, chimeras, sentinels, and troopers milling all about us in a frenzy that made a beehive look positively orderly. By some fluke, or simply the aura of respect that Cain emanated, we managed to avoid being crowded by troops or run down by vehicles, though I still wouldn't recommend the experience of standing at a starport with regiments loading onto transports as a pastime for the claustrophobic.

"The taller one is Wren," I answered, not that Cain needed to figure out which of the commissars in the distance was whom. He likely knew more about the pair than I did thanks to his exceedingly vast bank of contacts throughout the Commissariat and was a thorough enough man to make sure the regiments he served alongside were in capable hands. I'm not sure if it was from a sense of concern for the Adumbrians or, more pragmatically, a concern for ours.

From a distance the pair didn't appear to be any source of concern for us and from their vantage point we probably bore a similar resemblance to them. They stood, like us, as a pair watching as chimeras chugged passed them and servitors lugged storage crates about. I imagined their conversation followed along a similar line as ours with Stimpsen pondering aloud if that was indeed Commissar Cain standing in the distance, only to be verbally beaten back by Wren for even thinking of admiring somebody else other than him. The subtle smack to the side of the Stimpsen's head only added to my perceived vision of their conversation.

"Think they play tarot?"

"I doubt Wren would let Stimpsen anywhere near a game where betting is involved," I remarked. "The man's about as gullible as an ogryn."

"Now Abel, you shouldn't speak so ill of your fellow commissars," Cain informed me, though his tone conveyed a sense of understanding of my part. Though I knew he held contempt for a Commissar Beije, he did keep those thoughts internalized for the most part. His advice had merit so I decided to give it a shot. I was shortly able to put my trust in Cain's advice as Stimpsen apparently managed to distract Wren long enough to make a sprint over to our position, somehow managing to avoid being flatten by any of the dozens of vehicles that passed by. He was apparently oblivious to the traffic disruption he was causing. I was surprised the drivers showed so much concern for a Commissar but I suspected they simply didn't want to deal with the hassle of scraping his fat arse off the front grill, not to mention he could put a serious dent in some of the smaller vehicles; maybe even trip up a sentinel.

Since Stimpsen had absolutely no interest in me, even for the most basic of reasons, I was able to step back and let Cain work his charm on the oaf. His bulbous blue eyes gazed at Cain with a mix of admiration and joy, snapping a sloppy salute to him before offering out a hand. Of course, even at this early stage of his career Cain was more than accustomed to the blithering remarks of awe-struck soldiers, officers, and commissars alike and greeted Stimpsen as politely as he would a lord general. "Commissar Stimpsen, attached to the 9th Adumbrian Light Infantry, it is a great honour to make your acquaintance Commissar Cain. Truly an honour."

"It is always a pleasure to meet a fellow servant of the Commissariat," Cain replied graciously with a crisp salute, though he hesitated for an instant to shake the man's hand as he noted, as I did, that were some crumbs and stains on the glove of questionable origins. Likely, it was from Stimpsen's last meal, not that that fact brought any comfort since the man would eat pretty much anything. The two started going on into a conversation, though it was the general line of questions one would expect upon meeting a Hero of the Imperium – did you really kill so-and-so, what was it like to be at this place, were they really all that big, and so on and so forth. Amazingly, Cain maintained the same air of civility, which is far more than I could have said for myself. Unfortunately, when I said Wren was the easier of the two to deal with it was because Stimpsen couldn't take a hint if you glued it to the end of a shock maul and hit him with it. However, in the idiot's defense Cain did a good job of appearing amicable and maybe even enjoying the company, which meant that the ensuing problems it would create were entirely Cain's fault. Give Stimpsen an inch and he will take it to Terra and back.

We thought, wrongly, that the arrival of an irate Wren would relieve us of their presence. He, however, found plenty reason of the wrong reasons to remain in our presence and uncharacteristically allow Stimpsen to continue his incessant questioning. Not to sound like a broken holorecording but I was once again faced with the eternal struggle that came with being a woman in the commissariat. I can say with no hint of cynicism or self-depreciation that the constant attention did not come from my looks. I was not the most attractive woman to grace the battlefield as that was a title Colonel Kasteen could make a solid run for, but nor was I a hideous wretch even with the biotic eye. Though Cain would argue otherwise, I considered myself rather average and my youth was betrayed by my grayed hair, which was probably what drew Wren to me in the first place – an incorrect presumption that I was lonely old commissar who had long since dropped her standards.

The constant barrage of advances is the plight of any woman in the commissariat and dealing with it is the first piece of advice I give to any juvie looking to follow my footsteps. I learned to distance myself emotionally from people, as many women in my situation did, and it no doubt led to the reputation of female commissars of being stone-hearted women as frigid as the Valhallan glaciers.

Wren introduced himself to me first, which was my first clue of his true interests, and gave me a desiring look that I had seen numerous times and would see frequently throughout the remainder of my career. It immediately made me wish I had my faithful celibacy stick on hand. I don't know if I managed to keep my composure as well as Cain but even if I hadn't I doubt that Wren would have been deterred. Something in my behaviour must have tipped Cain off because he immediately attempted to interject himself into our conversation in his usual friendly and approachable fashion, introducing himself to the scrawny, balding commissar.

"Oh yes," Wren replied with a thinly-veiled indifference. "Commissar Cain, hm? Of that Perlia incident, yes?" Cain merely nodded in response, clearly not baited by Wren's attempt to feign ignorance of Cain's reputation in the hopes that Cain would simply leave in indignation. Undaunted, Wren returned his attention to me. "I heard a great many things about the 597th during the Adumbrian campaign, no doubt a product of your most inspiring leadership and resolve."

"Actually…I was wounded for the duration of the campaign," I promptly corrected him. "Cain and Colonel Kasteen are the ones you should be congratulating." I think I enjoyed the look on Wren's face far too much when he cast a sideways glance to Cain, who responded at the mention of his name with a grin, slightly veiled in smugness.

"Of course…my mistake," Wren corrected himself, his disappointed tone evident. "Nonetheless, I look forward to collaborating on our next deployment."

"As do I," I lied. The only thing I was looking forward to at the moment was getting onto the next shuttle off that rock. Cain must have read my mind (not literally of course, he was just good at reading people) cause he tugged me off towards one of the shuttlepads and said something about it being an unfortunate turn of events that we had to part ways in such a hurry. Alas, that failed to dissuade either of them as they tailed after us and decided to hitch a ride on our shuttle as well, bumping a few very irate medical orderlies onto the shuttlepad to wait several hours later for the next one. Though under normal circumstances would I never consider such an act, I managed to find Cain's aide, Jurgen, and took the seat next to him. Though Wren and Stimpsen invariably followed to continue pestering us the whole trip into orbit, at least we were able to make it as much of an annoyance to them as possible. Wren's gigantic nose proved quite useful for a change as he spent more time trying to keep his stomach down than make more trivial advances towards me. I merely slipped my gasmask on and took a quick nap.

* * *

The first official briefing between regimental officers, their commissars, and the Lord General leading the expedition did not occur for several weeks into our trip through the warp. Due to limitations of our troopship's conference systems, the briefing was more limited compared to that of the one prior to the Adumbrian campaign. Sitting around a circular table were the regimental commanders, executive officers, and commissars belonging to the four regiments aboard; the Valhallan 597th Ice Warriors with myself, Cain, Kasteen, and Broklaw; the 9th Adumbrian Riflemen with Wren, Stimpsen, Trevek, and Laquor; the 22nd Kastaforian Heavy Infantry led by men whose names I can't recall since I dealt very little with them; and the Krieg 11th Armoured Division, which had the 5th Heavy Armour Company currently attached to it, led by a Colonel von Vismarck, a Major Scheilt, and their commissar, Waffans.

As you could imagine, sharing a troopship with so many soldiers from Krieg was a huge boost to my morale. I spent as much time as I could among their numbers and managed to forge an acquaintanceship with Commissar Waffans. He was about as gloomy and fatalistic as you would expect given his heritage but he was a pleasant fellow when he was able to unshackle himself from his commissarial duties, which he did quite readily once ale and cards were introduced into the mix. I believe Cain took a genuine liking to him too, though it's hard to tell at times when he does truly enjoys somebody's company or puts on his polite façade (there were even times when I wondered what were his true thoughts of me). However, even my relatively short time spent with Cain had altered my perception of my duties and I actually found myself somewhat shocked when Waffans executed a Krieg soldier for disorderly conduct – an act for which Cain would have simply assigned latrine duty or a light flogging. I had to remind myself that everybody viewed their duties as a commissar with different eyes and my perception of my duties tended to revolve around what made the most practical sense in terms of achieving my goals. Usually they involved surviving and winning but I could technically be satisfied with one of the two.

I smiled and nodded to Waffans when I saw him take his seat only a few chairs down from my own and was infinitely relieved to see Wren all the way on the far side of the table. The Adumbrians were, as to be expected, the last to show up since the colonel wasn't too familiar with the inner layout of an Imperial troopship. The Kastaforians, I noted, looked far sterner than before and that 'fresh, new' look of their uniform seemed like all but a distant memory at that point. For better or for worse, they were a Guard regiment now and the others deferred them the respect they deserved. There was an air of tension in the conference room, no doubt due to the haste in which our units were assembled and deployed, not to mention the concern that naturally arose when the powers that be decided that a Stormblade super heavy battletank, belonging to the Kriegs, was going to be needed in the next mission. Personally, I felt a slight hint of confidence knowing that the rolling mass of death would be aiming its weapons away from me.

A grubby, oil-stained techpriest had been working under the table for the past twenty minutes in order to get the holoprojector functioning properly. When a blue, glowing aquila finally appeared above the table there was a brief, restrained cheer from the audience, only to be followed by a sigh of disappointment when the image began to flicker out of focus. The techpriest started to angle one of the projector rods, causing the image to distort in various dimensions depending on which way the projector rod was facing. Calls from the audience helped guide the techpriest's hands until finally a unanimous 'hold it there' came from us and the techpriest back away from the projector slowly, muttering prayers to the Omnissiah under his breath.

With the technical difficulties out of the way, the image flickered to that of a star map highlighting a sector of space I wasn't too familiar with and likely everyone else shared a similar sentiment. The arrangement of stars and systems looked like every other sector of space, though Cain was the first to correctly identify the space as located within the Damocles Gulf region of space. That led to a realization that left me feeling suddenly very uncertain about my future and continued existence.

"Hello? Is this thing working?" A voice echoed from a device at the center of the table just next to the holoprojector. Nobody was certain at first if the voice was referring to us but once again Cain seemed to be on the ball and responded first.

"We can hear you Lord-General Zyvan," he answered, clearly using the full title for all of our benefit. Apparently the device worked two ways as Zyvan acknowledged the response with a hint of satisfaction, taking a brief moment to greet Cain personally as well. Apparently the pair had something of a rapport with each other.

Since there was obviously no visuals involved in the briefing, the Lord General asked for everybody to sound off in order and once he was satisfied that all the necessary parties were present he continued with the briefing. The map zoomed in on a particular sector of space, showcasing several star systems – some of which had Imperial icons overtop while others had the blue icon of the Tau Empire. There was an unsettling amount of blue displayed on the map.

"I am getting a strange sense of déjà vu," Cain commented as he looked at the map, noting the planet that got highlighted at the very center of it and was noted by an icon that was half aquila and half Tau.

"Unfortunately, you're going to wish this was like Gravalax," Zyvan answered and for a moment Cain looked disconcerted, if only subtly and for a briefest of moments (and I wouldn't have noticed had I not been looking in his direction at the very moment). "As you are all aware, ever since the end of the Damocles Gulf Crusade back in the seven hundreds, the Tau Empire has been slowly encroaching on our space, picking off isolated and poorly defended systems one at a time. In turn, these planets would be used to apply more pressure to neighboring systems to abdicate their authority and renounce the Imperium." Zyvan had to pause briefly as various slanders and insults were hurled towards xenos that weren't even near our current location but seemed to make the officers feel better nonetheless. Wren seemed particularly venomous in his remarks about the 'opportunistic bluies.'

"Unfortunately, due to more pressing advances from other more serious threats, we have not been able to muster significant forces in order to combat this growing threat. What little forces we can muster, though, are often unable to hold back Tau military forces for very long, especially after Tau naval forces maneuver to cut-off supply routes. Normally, a force our size would not be wasted on an endeavor into the Damocles Gulf but Segmentum command has decided that allowing the Tau to continue to infiltrate our space would seriously undermine the confidence and stability of the region."

That went without saying; the Imperium's indifference to the Tau threat has persisted over the centuries, ever since the Damocles Gulf Crusade, and as a result the number of Imperium-held worlds that have fallen to the Tau has sky-rocketed to astronomical proportions. One could argue that it was hardly their fault, as it did seem at the time like the Imperium was abandoning those planets. Imperial forces pulled out in a hurry to combat the Tyranid threat and with no hope for backup, the Imperial citizens and forces left behind had two difficult choices; annihilation or annexation. As planet by planet fell to the Tau, the prospect of Imperial assistance seemed all the grimmer and many planets folded without even so much as an ounce of resistance. A part of me would deplore them for their cowardice and how quickly they abandoned the Imperial creed but I could imagine how hard it would be to maintain faith when everything you believed seemed intent on leaving you to the enemy's mercy. As the past decades of my career have shown, the underestimated threat can quite often become the greatest threat.

"So we're going in to show the other planets that the Imperium hasn't given up on them?" Broklaw asked rather rhetorically.

"That would be correct. Segmentum Command has chosen this planet – Magnus Viridis." A few screens of data appeared next to the star map, listing various details about the planet. The first thing I noticed was just how little population there was on the planet; there were barely a few million, which was hardly a footnote compared to the billions on most inhabited worlds.

"This is a paradise planet," I commented, noting another detail in the provided data. "I see we're going for the symbolic victory rather than the strategic one."

There was an audible sigh from Zyvan, noted by the hiss of static that followed it. I clearly hit a note he had been hoping to avoid but couldn't ignore now that it was out in the open. "I'm not going to lie to you Kasteen…"

"It's Commissar Abel actually," Kasteen corrected him.

"What? Really? Oh…sorry, I forgot you were here."

"I get that a lot," I sighed.

Zyvan continued, "As I was about to say, Magnus Viridis holds little strategic, military, or even economic value but Segmentum Command was very explicit in their orders that this planet be the one to protect."

"And how many noblemen and aristocrats have vacation homes on this planet?" Cain interjected.

"A lot given the urgency," Zyvan admitted.

Paradise worlds were rare in the Imperium and were generally left as untouched as possible in order to preserve their natural beauty. Many were made into recreational and vacation destinations for the wealthier populations and, given the size of the population, there were likely thousands of vacation homes located there. No doubt the pressure came all the way from the Administratum's highest echelons of power. Citizens be damned, those summer homes needed to be protected from xeno corruption!

"Let me start from the top, over the past few years the Tau have been pressuring the governor of Magnus Viridis to join the Tau Empire, which increased as more neighboring planets and systems fell to the Tau. The governor remained resolute in his defiance but when supply vessels became scarcer and scarcer, he was forced to turn to Tau for trade arrangements in order to keep the planet running."

"Can't really blame a governor for wanting to protect his people," Cain noted.

"True...and you can't fault the governor for not knowing that the reason the supply ships weren't showing up was because Tau forces had been blasting them to pieces before they could get close to the planet."

"Underhanded bastards!" shouted the Kriegan colonel, which was a sentiment I certainly shared.

"Underhanded, yes…but it worked," Zyvan continued undaunted. "Without supplies the governor turned to the Tau but continued to send distress signals out for assistance in removing the threat. We are part of a relief force sent to join other Imperial forces already on Magnus Viridis to maintain Imperial control over the planet."

"Seems a lot like Gravalax," Cain added once more, defying the lord general's original dismissal of the comparison.

"I wish it were that simple…" Zyvan sighed once more. "However, among those forces deployed before us was an Astartes strike team that had been assigned to forcibly remove the governor from power." A few officers made remarks that the man got what was coming to him but I sensed a huge 'but' was about to come up.

"And?"

"They failed. They were pushed back by loyalist forces on the planet and we have lost contact with the team."

"An Astartes strike team got pushed back by a bunch of PDF flunkies?" Waffans said in astonishment, earning him a few hateful glares from the Adumbrians and Kastaforians.

"Perhaps I should have mentioned this early," Zyvan said as the holoimage flicked to a picture of an aged man, scarred heavily by Emperor knows what and missing a major portion of his jaw and forehead. "This is Governor Gavilant, more specifically, though, Govenor-Militant General Gavilant of the Cadian 212th Heavy Infantry Regiment."

The news stunned us almost as much as the news that the Astartes had failed. We weren't dealing with some half-witted governor who only got the job by birthright but a former Imperial general of a Cadian regiment who had earned his position by killing whoever it was that had threatened the planet years before. Turns out, Gavilant had arrived at Magnus Viridis forty years earlier, pushed off Eldar forces that had been raiding the planet, took over as governor, and had remained there ever since…including the regiment that held unyielding loyalty to the man. I could imagine the Astartes surprise when the supposed PDF turned out to be battle-hardened Cadian stormtroopers. Even a team of Astartes would have trouble pushing through that level of disciplined firepower.

"I'm guessing the good governor decided to reevaluate who his friends were," Cain deduced. Sure enough, once the assassination attempt had gone belly-up, the governor turned to the Tau and their military rolled in.

"Right now, Tau forces are pushing hard across the planet, cutting down any PDF units that retain Imperial loyalty as well as the other Guard units that arrived with the Astartes. They're losing ground and fast. At the time of the last transmission, Tau forces were moving in on the only remaining starport still in Imperial control. Two regiments of Catachans as well as another Cadian regiment are currently holding out around the city of Vertens, though they've lost a bulk of their heavy armour already. I don't need to explain to you that if they lose that starport, there's very little chance we'll be able to mount a successful counter-attack against the Tau."

Most of Viridis was undeveloped and covered in lush forests, jungles, and oceans. In fact, only about 5% of the planet's surface was developed, which consisted of the few major cities on the planet and the scattered manors and estates that were generally isolated from the main path of the Tau forces. Trying to make a beachhead in the middle of a forest would be difficult at best but most likely suicidal given our enemy. From what Cain has told me of Tau military technology, they were a scary bunch even if their appearance may seem a bit comical at first glance. A Tau hovertank can tear a hole through a Leman Russ well beyond the Russ' firing range. That alone was a scary thought and I felt all the better about having a stormblade on our side. Tau technosorcery aside, they also had other xeno allies to deploy as needed, including Kroot who were apparently quite at home in a jungle environment.

"Seems straightforward enough," Kasteen concluded. That was true enough and Cain whispered to me that Gravalax may have seem simpler in terms of military tactics but it had been a far more convoluted situation than what official records stated (records which I would eventually be made privy to). We may have a hot landing to look forward to in Vertens but once we cleared the Tau from the city we could continue to push onto the planetary capital. Thanks to its relatively small developed landscape, there wasn't a whole lot of territory that needed to be conquered before we could say the planet was under our control. In fact, judging by the planetary map that was now displayed, there were only a few cities that needed to be secured for planetary dominance…and they were all connected by the same major highway that ran through the center of each. It was all fairly simple, militarily speaking.

Of course, then Zyvan added, "I guess I should mention the Ork problem as well, then."

Frak.


	5. FIVE

**FIVE**

Anybody who's browsed even briefly through a history file knows that anything involving Orks is going to involve a lot of problems, a lot of time, and usually a lot of carnage. They were the universal frak factor and everything they touched turned into a bloody mess, figuratively and literally speaking. Sure, the Valhallans were more than just eager to give it to the greenies for reasons I didn't understand at the time but I approached the situation with a fair bit more apprehension. If I were just an ordinary soldier then, sure, this campaign would look like a blast and a half – your world only consisted for going where you were told and blasting everything that didn't look human. I was stuck with the luxury, or burden depending on the situation, of having to keep the wider perspective in mind.

We had seven regiments at our disposal at best but more likely we'd have four full-strength regiments and maybe enough leftovers from the other three to form a mongrel regiment for the rest of the campaign. What heavy armour we possessed would form the spearhead of our advance, accompanied by one of the infantry regiments, towards the Tau lines while the remainder of our forces was to be deployed in order to deal with the Ork threat. It was a daunting task any way you spun it and either opponent could actually be far greater than our original intelligence reports had estimated. Since the Tau had a tight control on most of the surrounding systems and we lacked the naval forces for a complete blockade, the Tau could easily slip in reinforcements as needed. As for the Orks, you could never be sure just how many there are. There always seemed to be another horde of them just around the corner as they literally sprung up from the ground as you killed them. The vast jungle canopy of the planet only made estimating their numbers more difficult. Still, it could have been worse even taking into account what we didn't when we first arrived at the planet.

We were hopeful, though, that the abundance of enemies would turn to our advantage. As Cain explained to me, the Tau followed some philosophy they referred to as 'the Greater Good,' which was more or less a utilitarian outlook on life. Their empire, which seemed to be based on integrating varying species into one collective, was based heavily on mutualism among the individual parts. In a way, their empire held the harmony the Imperium once had during the Golden Age and I only wish I could be around to see the look on their smug little blue faces when it all falls apart on them. Bringing that many different ideologies and species into one collective was going to create friction one way or another and their methodology of bringing in those races, whether through peaceful, military, or coercive means, was just asking for a wide-scale rebellion by some of their smaller 'members.' This naivety could be easily be used to our advantage as the Tau would have no issues turning their guns away from us and onto the Orks with us if it meant serving their 'Greater Good.' Hey, if one of my enemies wants to help me shoot at the bigger threat, I say let them. In all the confusion that comes with war it'd be easy to pull back a little bit and let them bear the brunt of the offensive and then you can simply mop them all up afterwards.

Frankly, I'm surprised the Tau has made it as far as they have. Were the Imperium not so preoccupied with more pressing concerns they wouldn't pose half the threat they do today.

Still, even if the Tau fought for us against the Orks, it was still going to be a difficult battle. There wasn't a lot of solid intel on the Orks present on Viridis and that's compared to the usual 'lack of information on Orks' we usually got. Though the Imperium could generally keep track of most warbosses with a space-faring force, the arrival of this one caught the Imperium, and likely the people of Viridis, completely by surprise. What confused all of us the most was that it seemed like the Orks had gone a considerable distance and ignored far more defended planets to target Viridis (and thus bypassing a bigger fight, which seemed to be all Orks cared about). By their apparent stroke of fortune, though, they were about to be center stage for a massive battle. A fact I'm sure they died quite happy knowing.

On the bright side, intelligence reports suggested it wasn't a full-fledged 'Waagh' but simply a tribe of them. Unfortunately for us, though, it still meant having to deal with a large mass of angry Orks; which would easily translate into dealing with upwards of a hundred thousand Orks. The truth wasn't nearly that bad but we had no way of knowing that at the time. For our paltry force of maybe around twenty thousand, depending on how many survivors were left on Viridis, it looked daunting and using the Tau as a shield seemed to be one of our best options for success. Of course, there was also the possibility that the Tau didn't need any assistance at all, in which case we could be walking straight into a killing zone and we would be slaughtered without mercy. The campaign would eventually teach me an important lesson about the Tau: their technosorcery may truly be as scary as the stories make them out, if not scarier, but all that strength can still be beaten by humanity's faith and resolve.

A krak missile every so often helps too.

The lord general's explanation of the Ork presence failed to dampen our mood during the briefing, or if it did the others were experienced enough to know how to hide it. Personally I felt the nervousness rising. I had been hoping for maybe a small civil war or uprising, instead we had a large three-way war to win and we were the ones bringing the smallest armies to the battlefield. I recall a techpriest punched some calculations out and remarked that we had a 92.714% chance of encountering a 'horrific death experience.' Hearing those numbers drove me to the nearest bottle of amasec for a few hours.

After the lord general had finished the briefing and we were left to bicker over the finer details, mostly over who got to ride shotgun with the heavy armour company. Oddly enough, Cain didn't seem too interested in having the Valhallans carry that privilege. He made what seemed to me as a half-hearted attempt to help support Kasteen's arguments, though my observation was speculative at best. I suspected he just did not want to be the last one down, as the Kriegan units would take the longest to load onto their transports and thus would be the last ones out. Maybe he wanted to stick it to the greenies as much as the rest of the Valhallans. Personally, I was just glad we were going to deal with the Orks as I could, in my mind at least, handle those thundering brutes a bit easier. I was a solid enough marksman to put a lasbolt between the eyes of a charging Ork and a hotshot laspistol would have no trouble punching through their dense skulls.

The hours dragged by as preliminary strategies and tactics were worked out using a map of Vertens. Nothing solid could be laid out yet as we still had only limited details on the current situation, which even then was technically twenty to forty hours old already. The various officers made numerous suggestions depending on how much of Vertens was in Imperial control when we landed with the worst-case scenario of only the starport under our control; in that event, we'd basically just have to fight like madmen to push the enemy forces away and we'd have to improvise from wherever we could get an opening. The more the planning went on the less certain I felt about the mission, which mostly came from the lack of an overall strategy as the general consensus was to 'deal with it if we get there,' which really meant 'I have no fraking clue what to do next.' I did not like having no plan; it went against every convention I held. My faith in the Emperor may have been unwavering but he wasn't going to step off his throne and strike down a horde of Kroot warriors if I took the wrong turn because I had no Emperor-forsaken clue of where to go or what the rally point was. I didn't trust myself to think on the fly and that was one of those things that my tutors at the schola really nailed me for…that and saying 'sorry' too often to people.

At the end of the meeting I was just about ready to find Penlan, hand over my laspistol, and ask her to aim more carefully this time around. It didn't help that Kasteen had managed to talk the other regimental officers into allowing the 597th the honour of making the first landings, which meant whatever shitstorm was down there we'd be the first to run blind-folded into it. Cain must have noticed my uncertainty as he gave me a reassuring pat on the back on the way out, reminding me that things were rarely as bad as they seemed at first.

He was right, of course…they were always far, far worse.

I was able to slip free from the others at the meeting's end, concerned that my apprehensions would be plain to see, as Cain had already managed to take note of them. I didn't want the others, and by others I mean Broklaw and Kasteen, to see me in such a state. I was still very much an outsider to them, though they had begun to trust me gradually, and my only hopes of becoming a part of the regiment as to prove myself during the upcoming campaign, a task that would prove less daunting were the thought not terrifying enough to make me quake in my boots. Cain had to practically save the whole regiment in order to gain their undying trust, what hope would I have to come up with something even remotely close to that?

Since according to the ship's clock, not to mention my internal, it was close to the evening hours, I decided to retire to my quarters with the hopes of acquainting myself with the contents of a liquor bottle and drinking myself under just enough to avoid any horrific nightmares about being hacked to pieces by Orks or blown to bits by Tau weaponry. In hindsight, though, perhaps nursing a liquor bottle while delving through every dataslate I could find on Tau and Ork tactics was not one of the best moves if I wanted to avoid thinking about them when I finally fell asleep. I recall reading one general's remarks about how a Tau heavy weapon blew a hole through a tank's side and that the sheer velocity of the projectile created such a vacuum in its wake that everything not bolted down inside the tank was sucked out through the exit wound, including the entire crew. The thought of being reduced to an unrecognizable smear across the ground was not a pleasant one. If I were to die, I would at least like to have enough of me left to bury properly or at the very least, identify.

After a few hours of this and while reading a particularly cringe-inducing chapter about how Kroot auxiliary units enjoy ambushing units in jungle environments, I grew wary of both drowning my mind in booze and trying to fill it with somewhat pertinent knowledge at the same time. Both tasks were failing miserably as my mind was still relatively alert but I wasn't retaining much of what I had read. Somewhere between swearing I was going to have only one more glass and cursing myself for having too many, I convinced myself I needed to clear my head and managed to make it halfway across the troop carrier to one of the observation halls that commonly doubled as a prayer hall for the ship's crew, or at least that's what I guessed it was for judging by all the depictions of the Emperor that decorated the room. For me, though, it just offered a decent viewport to gaze outside…not that the view was very pleasant. Unlike the calming effect of staring into the infinite void of space, the ravaging torrents of the Warp were a little less calming. A thousand swirls of red, purple, pink, and black painted the scenery before me. It was hard to fathom that within that raging maelstrom bore all the hate, wrath, greed, and malevolence that plagued the whole universe – it had a strange beauty to it, if you could ignore the 'strip off your flesh and eat your soul' aspect that came along with it. If one could paint an image of pure, unfettered chaos, that would probably be the closest thing you could get.

I must have been temporarily mesmerized because I was quite startled when I felt a tap on my shoulder and, for reasons I couldn't quite grasp at the time, thought I going to have another run-in with a warp-spawned. Commissar Waffans took quite a bit of amusement from my reaction; actually it was a lot of amusement as it took a few threats of bodily harm just to get him to stop chuckling about it.

"If you're looking for guidance I think you're staring in the wrong direction," Waffans said before managing to finally quell his laughter. "Seriously, though, what are you doing out here at this hour? With the way you bolted out of the conference room I figured you were turning in."

"I thought I was," I explained, trying my best to hide my inebriation, "but I instead started doling over tactical doctrines instead. A person can only read over infantry formations stratagem for so long before their brain feels like its going to burst out of your skull."

I asked him the same question, since it did strike me as odd to see Waffans so far out from his regiment's lodgings. "Commissar Cain is hosting a little meet n' greet with some of the other commissars actually," he explained. "Cards, drinks, caba nuts; all that good stuff. I guess he didn't get a chance to tell you about it considering how quickly you left."

Since soldiers technically aren't allowed to gamble while on deployment one couldn't really gamble with them or more specifically, they weren't going to take a chance in gambling with you as commissars can be as big a sore loser as anyone else. Fellow commissars, however, were fair game not to mention such opportunities gave us all a better idea of how to operate around the others. As commissars typically have no authority over others (though a rule of thumb is usually to respect the opinion of the more senior commissar when in the same regiment, hence my obedience to Cain) more diplomacy is needed when interacting and, despite what anybody says, you cannot bludgeon your way through reasoning with a fellow commissar.

Cain was delighted as always to see me, though I half-suspect it was because he knew full-well that I sucked royally at gambling but since I had no particular attachment to my money I figured I could part with some of it in the spirit of unity with my fellow commissars. Joining us were Wren, with the unsurprising absence of Stimpsen whose gullibility should have been considered a liability, and a commissar from the Kastaforian regiment whose name escapes me despite my best efforts to recall. All I remember of him was that he was a good card player and made a good gathering for that night most of which at my expense. To nobody's surprise, Wren was quite delighted to see me and made every effort to keep his attention focused on me throughout the night. On the plus, though, Cain was able to shamelessly exploit this lack of focus. As was I a few times during the night. Most of the chatter through the night was what you would expect given the situation, we shared our past experiences with the Orks and Tau, which left me speaking very little.

Once or twice Waffans asked about why I was so quiet and I reluctantly admitted I had never engaged the Orks or Tau before. What little experience I had from my cadet days was with rebels and small cabals of heretics, though I left out the part about it being from that long ago. My admittance triggered Waffans to commence a very long and intricate oration about the inner workings of the Tau war machine, which he had experienced personally on numerous occasions. It kept my attention and fascination for a good portion of the night, much to Wren's chagrin, and I admit I probably paid even closer attention than I would've just to aggravate the man.

As the night wore on and the nuts and liquor were consumed, the chatter from the five of us from around that table became less informative and more boisterous. Cain once went on about how he had come face-to-face with a Kroot shaper once on Gravalax, which Wren countered with an old story about how he once eviscerated a shaper. Despite my misgivings about Commissar Wren there was no denying he was an experienced campaigner and a capable fighter. His low opinion of others meant that when things started going bad he always had a backup plan in waiting and he wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty if it meant getting out of a rut (though expect to hear grief from him for days afterwards).

"In an urban environment, the things you really want to look out for are Tau stealthsuits," Waffans explained as a new hand was dealt out close to the end of the night. "Unlike most Tau, who like to keep you nice and far away, the stealthsuits prefer to get in real close and wait in ambush. They have guns not too unlike a meltagun that can melt right through the side of a chimera. Even with a good auspex you can have trouble seeing them and by the time you've figured out where they are, the bastards have rocketed away."

"How do you stop them then?" I asked innocently, organizing my cards and resisting the temptation to smile when I realized how strong my hand was.

"Either somebody gets lucky and sees them ahead of time," Wren answered instead, "or you pray somebody saw where the shot came from after they blow up the lead tank."

"A few smoke grenades can help too. The bastards might be invisible but they're pretty big too," Waffans added.

"The key is to never let them get you pinned down. Once they've done that they can pick you apart at their leisure," Cain said helpfully as he started the bidding by throwing a few chips in. I noted he started off low but I also knew from the course of the night that Cain was quite formidable when playing cards, a skill no doubt aided by his ability to read others. This skill was only matched by his poker face, which I couldn't have read even if he had the cards taped to his forehead.

"Well I won't need to worry about that, I get to ride on the Traitor's Lament," Waffans said with a child-like eagerness in his tone.

"And that is?" I asked, apparently too intoxicated to care that I sounded a bit like an idiot for not having figured it out.

"The stormblade, my dear. True, the name isn't quite as fitting at the moment but I don't think anybody is going to care too much when we start popping Tau tanks out of the air." Now at any other time I would've smacked somebody for referring to me as 'my dear' but at the time I was a little drunk, Waffans was a bit enamoring, and he did have access to a very big tank which could have worked quite well into my fantasies had I been so inclined. "Once we have her unloaded from the transports you might as well call the war over cause there's nothing the Tau can throw at her that we can blast into pieces."

"Try not to get too headstrong out there lad," Cain cautioned, "the Tau are opportunistic frakkers and if you give them an opening they will ram everything they have down it."

"I've ridden in her plenty of times Cain, I know how to look after myself in a firefight," Waffans reassured him, taking a second, long look at his cards before folding. The ever-tactical Kastaforian commissar followed suit, making an off-hand remark about how his men had stood firm against Orks and Heretics and that the Tau would make a worthy addition to their regiment's history. "If you ask me, the Traitor's Lament should be one the first transport shuttle down so we can get her into the fight as quickly as possible. If the intelligence reports are right then we'll need the heavy firepower straight away to beat back their hammerheads and battlesuits."

"And if they have their sky rays ready?" Wren asked, though purely for the sake of upstaging Waffans since everybody knew the answer, everybody except me. All I could remember was that a sky ray was some sort of Tau missile tank. From that, though, it was easy to guess what Wren was trying to impress upon the younger commissar. "All they would need is one or two of them and your precious tank would be spread across several city blocks for everyone to enjoy. It is better to send the infantry regiments in first in order to secure the landing site and the surrounding zone."

"I guess that makes us expendable, huh?" I remarked. Given that the Valhallans had the 'honour' of being the first ones down I wasn't looking forward to the notion that would be potentially rooting out any anti-air missile batteries in the city.

"We are all expendable," Wren countered, though he was trying his best to mask his specific concern for me. "Death in the Emperor's service is the highest honour. Still, if we are going to win this planet back for the Imperium we are going to need the Kriegan heavy armour. If a transport or two is lost in order to ensure overall victory than those sacrifices will not have been in vain. Besides, if I recall correctly, Commissar Cain has the privilege of being lead transport."

Obviously that was the case. Cain had a reputation for being on the first transport down when it came to a warzone and he, like many other soldiers, probably didn't like the idea of being cooped up on a troop carrier while your comrades are getting all the glory for themselves. Personally, I was glad that it wasn't going to be me. Trying to hold the regiment together on my own for even a short period of time looked like a daunting challenge for me at that early of a time in my career. Cain merely nodded when he heard his name being mentioned, still pondering over his hand for an instant before raising the ante.

"If you hear me cussing like a sailor over the voxcaster you'll know not to get onto the next transport," he joked quite grimly, which made Waffans and I chuckle to no end. The other two didn't quite share in Cain's particular sense of humour. As the betting continued to rise, and my confidence in my hand going the opposite direction, Wren decided that impressing me wasn't worth the cost to his wallet and folded. That left only Cain and I in a showdown of who could make the other blink first – a prospect that was increasingly looking bad for me. He grinned at me confidently before disappearing behind his tanna bowl, though it went back to the table with a somewhat disappointed look appearing across his face. "Jurgen! Could you bring another pot of tanna out? Would anybody else care for some?"

"I could use some please," I said, though at the time I didn't have much interest in the drink. However, the act alone was enough to calm my nerves and at the moment I needed every advantage I could if I was to win the hand and hopefully keep myself in the game. My pile of chips was looking particularly pitiful compared to the others. A few moments later we were greeted with Jurgen's characteristic odour, which almost completely masked the scent of the tea itself.

Now despite my early complaints about my biotic eye, I learned over the campaign to greatly appreciate some of the advantages that it conveyed. Aside from the excellent visual acuity and enhanced peripheral vision (though the range of my peripheral vision on the left is limited), my biotic eye could see better than 20/10 and pick out details from the small sources, such as the reflection from the side of a metal tanna teapot. For a brief instant, I could see Cain's entire hand when the tea was poured and it took every ounce of discipline to pretend I didn't just see a worthless hand. Was it underhanded? Of course it was but it was also my only shot at winning and it wasn't like Cain was a saint. I've seen him shuffle the cards before and he is quite capable of staking a deck without the average person noticing (and I only noticed many years into our working relationship thanks to my enhanced vision).

"I…think I'll raise," I said and kept the subtle nervous tone that I tried to hide in earlier rounds. Cain, no doubt, picked up on my usual nervous habit of drinking whatever was nearby and I used the tea Jurgen provided to reinforce that image. I like to think that, for once, I was able to take Cain for a ride. The commissar took the bait almost too eagerly and pushed enough of a wager in to force me to either flee in terror or push everything I had in. Hubris got the better of me because I wanted to take Cain to the cleaners so I pushed everything I had in and tossed in a few personal trinkets into the pot that added a fair sum of value. Undaunted and certain I was trying to bluff my way out of a bad hand, Cain continued pushing in the chips until I was left wondering if I should continue to rob him or take what he had given.

Stupid me, I decided to keep pushing him. I drew out my prized hotshot laspistol and dropped it right into the middle of the chip pile, letting the plastic discs scatter across the table for some nice, added dramatic effect. I'd like to think even Cain was a little surprised and was beginning to reconsider his original assessment but if that was the case he didn't let it show. Without saying a word, Cain carefully contemplated his next move, whether to graciously fold or find one last ace up his sleeve to scare me away (not that it was likely considering how much I cherished that pistol).

"Quite a valuable pistol," Cain finally spoke, his voice still calm and sounding perfectly in control. "One of a kind you could say."

"It is."

"I doubt this little pile will be sufficient," he continued as he pushed the remainder in, his tone hiding an unseen motive that unnerved me greatly. "If you win this hand, I will give you my seat on the first transport down."

If it took a lot of discipline to hide my excitement of the knowledge I held a winning hand over Ciaphas Cain, you could imagine the discipline it took to not fall into a blind panic when I realized I was about to win a near death-sentence packaged as my birthday gift. Either Cain thought I could handle it…or maybe he knew it was a huge risk too and just needed an excuse to get out of it. Now it didn't sound at all like the Hero of the Imperium but in my young and inexperienced state my mind jumped to impossible conclusions that only served to further inspire panic into my mind. Left with the choice of parting with my pistol and potential parting with my life, there was really only one viable option left to me; I called; I won; and I got stuck with the 'great honour' of sitting on the first iron boat to fall within the potential targeting arrays of any Tau air or ground forces.

Go me.

* * *

The situation on Magnus Viridis, thankfully, didn't get astronomically worse by the time our forces arrived in the system. Our ships were greeted with suppressed delight by the few vessels that were still in orbit, one of which I was told was an Astartes Gladius class frigate, which happened to also be the only vessel that didn't respond to our arrival. It was odd to see a lone frigate of the Astartes without any cruisers or barges to escort but, as I would discover later, this was apparently not too uncommon for the particular chapter involved. Though I had little interest in naval operations, from what I had gathered on the final briefing, the Tau naval forces were holding orbit on the far side of the planet in a stand-off with our own, Neither side having dominance over the contested airspace and neither willing to commit their limited forces to a front assault. The only ships not in the fleet were a handful of scouts from both sides who maintained orbit halfway between the two in order to keep a watchful eye.

Again, I didn't understand naval tactics as I would have ordered a few fighters to engage the Tau scouts but it was explained to me that such tactics would be futile, as the Tau scout ships would simply fall back far enough for their fleet to lend support and everyone would eventually fall back into their original places. For the time being, the fleets were to stay put, as a loss of any major vessels would compromise any contingency plans to evacuate if things started to spiral downward. I barely understood the total rationale behind it but what it meant to us was that the transports wouldn't get harassed on the way to the surface, which was fine by me, Although it meant the same benefit existed for the Tau.

While the troops began loading into the transports, I got a final briefing with the Lord General and the rest of the regimental staff, along with a communication from Major Currae, a Cadian who was apparently the ranking officer of the remaining Imperial forces on the planet. According to his information, the Cadian regiment took a heavy pounding but were still at just above half strength while the two Catachan regiments were merged into one. Both regiments suffered heavy casualties however one of them lost their entire command staff to a well-executed assault from the Kroot. This lost prompted the merger rather than the lack of troopers. Tau forces, along with a number of traitor PDF units, were assaulting the city of Vertens and reports of enemy soldiers penetrating as far as the starport were mixed and unconfirmed at the time of my departure. Things were bad and if we didn't hit the ground shooting then we were likely to start a few moments afterwards. Control of the city was about 60-40 in our favour but if we didn't get our forces onto the ground soon that advantage would change quickly. Units were getting encircled and isolated and, if Cain's advice held true to the larger scale, they wouldn't have much time left.

The nervousness was rising up again as finally preparations were being made for departure. I could only describe the atmosphere in the transport holds as being one of controlled enthusiasm, as every Guardman on the ship seemed eager to get off, except me. I was still a little terrified that I was going to get my head blown off the second the ramp hit the rockrete. Colonel Kasteen was going over a last few briefing points with the captain of the company I was landing with, Captain Sulla, while I was given a few last pointers from Cain.

"Nervous?" he asked though I figured he could probably already tell the answer just by looking at me.

"What gives you that idea?"

"The flak vest under your coat," he said, rapping his knuckle against the chest plate. "Won't do much good against Tau plasma weapons."

"I think a commissar would understand that any option that helps morale should be explored." That was also the reason I still had my Krieg gasmask hanging from my neck even though I had no expectation of encountering any gas attacks as such tactics seemed somewhat archaic considering the Tau's technology.

"Fair enough," he said, looking past me to the colonel and captain talking near the transport's main ramp. "Last few pieces of advice kid; keep your head down; keep moving; and keep an eye on Sulla. She'll try and take the whole damn Tau army by herself if you give her the opportunity. Keep her in check – we're going to need you two to secure the landing zone so the rest of our forces can safely land and disembark. You understand me Commissar Abel? This landing's success hinges on keeping the flow of reinforcements coming."

"I know what's at stake Commissar Cain," I answered firmly, feeling some confidence coming back to me despite the mounting pressure. I guess I was one of those people who worked well when pressured much like how a cornered unit can fight like Astartes when it becomes life or death. For a Kriegan, life or death didn't matter but rather the success or failure of the mission and not even Horus himself would stop me from completing my objective. "We won't let you down."

"If I had any doubts about you I wouldn't have let you have the first transport."

A beckoning shout from Kasteen prompted me to hurry on my way before the first transport left without me. Reaching the top of the ramp, I looked back to see Cain and Kasteen standing at the bottom with Cain spouting one of his usual little soliloquies about honour, glory, and the Emperor that I would hear from him throughout our career together. I swear, even after hearing it for the hundredth time I still feel invigorated. Perhaps that was just testament to his charisma – it didn't matter what he was saying, just that he said it proved to be enough for your spirit.

As the ramp closed and the image of Cain and Kasteen disappeared behind the heavy metal plate, I snapped them one final salute and proclaimed the Emperor protects, mostly for the dramatic effect to the scores of troopers sitting behind me. As I weeded my way through to the back past those troopers, I was glad to see how all were prepped and ready to fight the moment they disembarked; their lasguns sitting ready on their lap; and loaded down with extra power cells, water canteens, and med-supplies. Every one of them knew that if we didn't secure the landing zone there wouldn't be much point taking the rest of our kit bags off with us. I squeezed into a seat between Captain Sulla and a heavily armed stormtrooper who had a similar habit to mine of constantly wearing full headgear, including facemask, regardless of the need. Judging by his lack of movement and his seeming indifference to my arrival, I assumed that he was catching what little sleep he could before the drop. Emperor knows that if things went badly on the ground we could be stuck fighting for a long time without relief.

"All set Captain Sulla?" I asked purely for conversation.

"Ready as we'll ever be Commissar," she answered, though I detected a slight hint of disappointment in her tone (or perhaps it was just an effect of the humming engines in the background). I assumed, though, that she was merely disappointed that she was stuck with Abel rather than the more desirable Cain.

As the engines roared to life and the ship lurched forward, even I knew from my limited experience that we were in the void of space now and on our way to the planet below. Death or glory awaited us in the streets of Vertens as well as a whole load of xenos and traitors. Militarily speaking, this was where the fun began.


	6. SIX

**SIX**

My first descent into the unknown filled me with a strange combination of both dread and enthusiasm. The idea of not knowing what waited for me on the other side of the boarding ramp when we finally touched down was more than unnerving, it was enough to drive a person insane and I wondered how the soldiers around me were able to remain so calm. They, I told myself repeatedly, must have grown accustomed to the feeling after so many years of campaigning. Perhaps, though, they simply didn't care as the enemies of the Emperor were all the same in their eyes – things to be slaughtered. In a way, I only feared that things would be far worse than we had been told when we landed and I would die painfully and in vain, which for a Kriegan was a bad combination of fates. While I was wary of what awaited me, the need to put a face, so to speak, to the situation was overpowering. As Cain would say, the less you knew, the less you could prepare yourself to meet it. I wanted to know what I was dealing with and not just the vague 'lots of Tau and traitors' that I had been getting thus far.

I tried to preoccupy myself holding a conversation with Captain Sulla beside me. She displayed an eagerness to enter the fray that, in my mind, bordered on the boundaries of an unhealthy obsession. I saw immediately what Cain was referring to when Sulla and I were perusing a map of the starport and the surrounding city of Vertens. She expressed a desire to crush the enemies swiftly while I had to preach a more conservative approach. We still had no idea what the exact layout of the enemy forces was on the ground but we were working on the assumption that they would likely be everywhere and anywhere. Our first objective, as I reminded Sulla, was to ensure that the starport was free of harassment in order for the remaining transports to land. In light of the recent news of deep enemy penetration, command had altered their deployment tactics somewhat and each transport's vehicle holds had a couple of tanks from the Kriegan armoured regiment, who would be under Sulla's temporary command until the rest of the Kriegans arrived. The thought of having a Leman Russ annihilator sitting in the holds below me was quite comforting.

The starport consisted of a circular array of landing pads around the central hub with limited access to each landing pad from either one of three external exit points in the retaining wall or the main access route that led towards the central hub. As Magnus Viridis had little traffic in terms of freighters and passenger vessels, the starport in Vertens was relatively small compared to ones on most civilized Imperial worlds and our deployment was limited to how many ships we could land at once, which in this case was three. With dense forest and mountains shielding the southern half of the starport, the Tau advance obviously came from the north approach, which could have helped us bottleneck their forces were it not for the high mobility of their armoured units. Sulla's first intuition was to divide each landing force into two parts, one that would hold the external exit points around the retaining wall and a second team that would push towards the central hub. The central hub would need to be in our control if we were to ensure security of the entire starport. From there, Sulla wanted the heavy armoured units and some chimeras to regroup at the central hub and begin a push into the city but I firmly reminded her that our duty was to hold the space port and we wouldn't leave the perimeter until at least the second shipment of troops. Major Broklaw, who was riding on one of the other transports, agreed with me when I asked for input over the vox network. However, were there significant numbers of sky ray gunships in the city, Sulla had permission to lead some tanks out in order to silence them.

Once the bulk of our forces had been deployed, we would be able to progress out into the city, each infantry regiment taking a third of the city and advacing outwards with the assistance of the Kriegan armoured units, liberating any pinned Imperial forces along the way. The Valhallans had the eastern third of the city to worry about and it housed the former PDF garrison that the Cadians had turned into an adhoc command post, which was probably under heavy siege by the time of our deployment. The Adumbrians would take the center, shielding their inexperienced numbers with the might of the Traitor's Lament and most of the Kriegan armour, while the Kastaforians would handle the west. If all went well, we could probably have the town back in our possession within a few days and could plan our next move. A few more times during our conversation I had to remind Sulla to keep focus on the objectives and not rush ahead, including when she suggested getting the Valhallans moving into the city once the regiment was deployed; a move I reminded her would expose our entire west flank if the other regiments weren't ready yet. The liberation of the city would require a coordinated offensive, otherwise we could wind up getting isolated and surrounded just like the other regiments. I also reminded her that wiser minds than ours were in command and our duty was to complete the task assigned to the 597th. Freelancing was not a recommended tactic in the field manual.

Judging from the field reports, it seemed as though the Tau were making a concentrated push down the center towards the starport, likely trying to cut off any reinforcements. The flanks were being supported mostly by former PDF units who were overwhelming Imperial forces with their sheer numbers rather than their skill or efficacy in battle. Outside the city walls it was jungle-fighter versus jungle-fighter as the Catachans had their hands full with Kroot-led assaults. The Kroot were not an enemy I was looking forward to: brutal like an Ork, swift like an Eldar, and if they liked how well you fought you had the honour of being their next meal as well as their trophy kill. Thankfully I would always have a squad of troopers watching my back, or at least I hoped they would. Despite a slow and steady integration into the unit at that moment I felt as though they were still ambivalent about my presence. I would have been more concerned if it hadn't been for their level of professionalism bolstering my absolute belief that they would respect the scarlet sash regardless of the person wearing it. Perhaps it had something to do with Cain's treatment towards me whenever the troopers were around, making me look better than I felt I deserved.

"This is interesting," Sulla commented as we continued pouring over the map. "The highest concentration of Orks seems to be located right between us and the Tau's main camp." It wasn't directly between us but the bulk of the Orks appeared to be only a short march (or shorter charge) away from the main route linking the two major cities on Viridis. The Kriegan push towards the Tau-held city could attract the Orks attention. That's if all the fighting hadn't already. It could very well mean that we would need to punch through the Orks before we could even deal with the Tau. Too bad the Tau's vehicle weren't as limited to the road as ours were.

"We can worry about the Orks later. We still need to figure out a way to deal with the main route towards the central hub. If the Tau are in control of the main route then things will turn very ugly very quickly." The high walls, numerous buildings, and narrow traffic lanes could easily turn the routes into shooting galleries for the Tau. Our forces would have to break free and push into the central hub, where the starport took on a more urban layout with blocks of warehouses, terminals, and hangars to navigate and bypass potential chokepoints. Since there wasn't enough time for the Tau to fortify the starport, they would have to rely on pre-existing chokepoints if they wanted to keep us bottled-up. Their opportunity to limit our manoeuvrability ended once we reached the central hub.

"If we really need to, we could put down the transports at other locations. These parks here could be used in a pinch."

"I think Kasteen and the others would be wary of landing their forces potentially on top of the enemy."

"Would make finding the xenos easier."

"Let's just focus on killing the ones in front of us for now."

Our conversation was interrupted when a bout of turbulence enveloped the transport, which meant we had begun passing through the atmosphere. The noise from hundreds of soldiers, tanks, and APCs clanging about inside an all-metal container would consume any attempt at unaided speech and I enjoyed the opportunity to take a break from conversing with the over-zealous captain.

It wasn't so much that she bothered me but she was over-eager and reminded me far too much of the Commissar-Generals I've met – heart always in the right place, though not always her head. I was reminded of a lecture from the schola about the four types of officers that could be found within an army. The first category were brilliant and energetic; they were destined to be staff officers. Great ideas and the ability to make things happen. The next was brilliant and lazy. They made the best commanders as they could understand the battlefield but never acted impetuously. Stupid and lazy was the next category and they were easy to spot by the number of their own troops that lay dead around them. The last category were the stupid and energetic. This was the most dangerous group of officers within any army. Full of truly terrible ideas and the willingness to implement them as quickly as possible. Their innate actions pulsed through an army with an effect equal to a bolter round through the brain of an orc. The thing is dead but it is still charging at you at full speed. Only to fall to the ground after it runs right over you. Sulla was starting to meet all the criteria of a full blown category four. I figured that I would know for certain very shortly.

By the time the boat stopped rocking and things settled down, Sulla was already preoccupied briefing her lieutenants through her comm-bead so I was left to continue reading over tactical data. However, even that activity was short-lived when, a few minutes later, the whole transport jerked violently to port, knocking a few lasguns free from their owners and leaving most of us in a state of confusion, including myself.

The up-until-now silent stormtrooper must have heard my confused mutterings as he turned to me and said, "Feels like we've taken a hit – missile if I'm not mistaken." He was remarkably calm despite the sudden bout of uncertainty that had just kneed me in the gut. His calmness, I learned, came from many experiences in similar situations and the military transports were rugged enough to handle a few missiles so long as they didn't take out an engine. The loss of an engine would have left us with just enough power to make it to the crash site. The transport began lurching from side to side, tilting at surprisingly steep angles as the pilot manoeuvred the transport in order to avoid incoming ground fire. It was impressive given that transports were about as manoeuvrable as a lobbed brick. Troopers began to curse loudly as unsecured gear was tossed around the cabin and I was hit by a trooper's loose helmet. At least that answered our question about the presence of Tau anti-air firepower. Since we didn't take any other hits on our way in, I assumed that it must have been sparse, or at perhaps more focused on the Imperial fighters still engaging Tau vessels for air supremacy.

"Touching down in five minutes," the pilot's voice sounded over a vox caster, prompting the scores of troopers to start one final check of their gear. As the transport descended, it began to be rattled by small arms fire, which bothered no one as the thick hull plating was more than capable of withstanding plasma shots, lascannon fire, and bolter rounds. I took the opportunity to fit on my gas mask, taking some solace in the warmth and sound of my breath. "Doors are opening in two minutes. I can see bluies all over the place so get ready to come out swinging!"

Sulla immediately began shouting out orders to platoon leaders and every trooper began to unhook all their safety harnesses. A few whoops of excitement echoed throughout the chamber as the exuberance of the younger members began to show, though I doubt such enthusiasm would last beyond the first few volleys. The stormtrooper beside me remained as calm as a spring breeze, prepping his hellgun with machine-like precision. More out of compulsion than a pressing need to, I double-checked my laspistols as well, ensuring both were fully charged and in their appropriate holsters. I also made sure that the reassuring bulk of my shock maul (formerly known as the celibacy stick) was still resting inside my great coat. It may not have had the inspiring presence of a chainsword but few people could get up after receiving a fully-charged blow from it and its smaller size made it easier for me to handle. The soldiers began to line up at the boarding ramp, ready to rush out the second they could, and I decided to follow Cain's example and squeezed my way to the very front.

Crazy – yes, but I was desperate to make sure the troopers believed in my resolve if only for the sake of my ego.

The transport touched down, causing everyone to lurch forward briefly and as the engines began to fall silent all I could hear were the sounds of the soldiers around me breathing and my heart hammering inside my chest. I knew I had a few moments to say some words for inspiration, not that I thought anybody in the chamber needed it aside from me.

"Today we stand together against the alien and the heretic," I said, surprising myself by keeping my tone level and firm despite the all-too-likely chance of it cracking under the pressure. "We are this planet's last, best hope for salvation. We either leave this world as heroes…or we don't leave at all. For Emperor and Imperium!"

"For Emperor and Imperium," echoed the voice of the same stormtrooper as before, who I just realized was standing right behind me. A few other soldiers echoed those words but otherwise the cabin was silence, save for gears and hydraulics as the boarding ramp began to descend. Immediately, we were all hit in the face with a fury of wind and water.

Apparently, I had missed the part of the briefing that mentioned we were landing in the middle of Viridis' rainy season, which could drop a few hundred centimetres of water in the span of a few months. Even before the ramp touched the rockrete most of us were already half-soaked but it did not dampen our resolve. I took two steps down the boarding ramp…and then I slipped and fell.

That's right…I fell. I made one of the dumbest rookie mistakes of all and while in other situations such a mistake could have cost me my life, in this instant it was what kept me alive. Just as I lost my footing, my boot hitting a slick portion of the rain-soaked ramp, a plasma bolt passed over me and through the airspace where my head would have roughly been had I not fallen. Unfortunately, that meant, instead, the stormtrooper behind me caught the plasma bolt square in the chest and he became the first of several to fall as additional plasma bolts began hounding the boarding ramp. A thunderous battle cry responded from our troops, lasguns firing as they stormed down the ramp. An arm swooped down help pull me back to my feet, though I never got an opportunity to thank the man, or even get a good look at his face, as a second later he too caught a plasma bolt and went down, a black, charred crater where his face used to be.

Our troops began to fan out, attempting to form a defensive line against the incoming plasma fire, which seemed to be originating from a medium-sized structure located near the main exit towards the central hub. I was amazed at their accuracy even at the range they were firing at, which was almost at the limits of our lasguns. Troopers were taking cover wherever they could find it – vehicles, storage crates, loaders, and basically anything else that would be able to withstand a few plasma bolts. It was a desperate struggle at first but as our soldiers began to dig in, we began getting more effect from our return fire. I managed to find shelter behind a small luggage carrier, joining a stocky, red-headed woman who I recognized soon afterwards.

"Lovely weather for a firefight, eh commissar?" Magot joked.

"Indeed," was my response, peaking over our cover to get a better understanding of our situation. We had landed on the Northwest pad, formed a defensive line facing the Southeast, and were being harassed by Tau forces and some traitor PDF (as I noticed lasbolts flying back in our direction) located in buildings to the South and Southeast. From what I could tell, they didn't have any heavy armour with them but that could change very quickly. I took a few pot shots but with the rain and distance, I doubt I hit anything at all.

"Drones!" A voice cut through the downpour. It took me a few moments to realize what he was referring to but I eventually saw them; small, disc-like machines flying over the retaining walls from every direction, firing twin-guns in strafing runs. What little cover we had was useless against them so everybody immediately turned their attention to them. Fortunately, the little buggers had short range and bad accuracy (at least compared to Tau marksmanship) so our returning volleys were able to swat them from the sky. I was reminded of the old firing range back at the schola and couldn't help but smirk as I lined up one of the machines and put a lasbolt right through it. It sputtered and wobbled for a few fleeting moments before crashing into the ground with a satisfying crunch.

"Heads up Abel!" Magot alerted me as she fired several rounds at a flock of drones preparing to make a strafing run on our position. I was almost ready to line up a shot myself when a flurry of bolter rounds tore apart the formation. A cheer rose up as we heard the familiar roar of engines flare up and several chimeras and Leman Russ tanks emerged from the transport ship, some of which were so eager to enter the fray they flew off the ramp, slamming loudly into the rockrete. Multilasers and heavy bolters opened up on the entrenched enemy forces, gouging out huge crevices through the sides of the building, followed by ever-reassuring blasts as the tanks joined in. With the battle turning in our favour, I raised Captain Sulla on the vox network, the dry echo of her voice telling me that she was inside her command chimera.

"The other landing parties are reporting light resistance," Sulla explained, "and they're pressing towards the central hub as we speak."

"Good, once we mop up here we can join them."

My good spirits were shattered, though, when a too-close-to-be-comforting explosion rang out and I turned to see one of the chimeras with its turret in flames. Then suddenly, it landed: a Tau battlesuit. The towering war machine dropped straight onto the chimera, sinking a few inches into the armour plating that bowed beneath the force. I noticed a few of the saucer drones were following it around, though they lacked any visible weapons and just seemed to hover there, as if watching over the larger machine. Firing another shot into the chimera, any hope for survivors inside were as blasted as the machine's chassis.

"Everything on that frakker!" I barked unnecessarily as the chimeras and troopers began pelting it with everything they had. I realized then one of the flankers must have been one of those shield drones I had read about, as all of our shots struck harmlessly against a protective energy barrier. It began firing huge bolts of plasma in response, blowing holes through our defensive line as if it was made of paper. When one of the tanks tried to swing its turret around to target the battlesuit, its jetpack fired and it launched into the air once more, landing with another thunderous crash mere meters away from my position. Its white, robotic head swivelled from left to right before its glowing red lenses fixated on me, or so it appeared to my terrified mind. It aimed a long-barrelled cannon at my position and fired. Quick wits and quicker feet just barely managed to get Magot and I out of the blast radius but even then we were still knocked off our feet from the explosion.

Cursing under my breath for winning that stupid hand with Cain, I was about to get back to my feet when a large, mechanical foot knocked me across the rockrete. Apparently the giant machine decided to start toying with me or perhaps it simply wished to look me in the eye before vaporizing my remains. However, something most peculiar then occurred - it didn't fire and simply stared at me as though contemplating whether I was worth the ammunition. Whatever reason stayed its hand, the time it bought probably saved me as the battlesuit suddenly twisted back just as a krak rocket went screaming past its chest. I used the momentary distraction to put some distance between it and me, which was aptly timed as a Leman Russ finally got a lock on the bastard and fired a shell at close range into its backside. It didn't blow the thing apart, which I had sort of hoped for, but it did destroy one of the drone escorts and it must have been the shield drone as our shots started pounding against the armour plating (not that it was having any better effect).

Without its shield, it must have lost its nerve as it rocketed back into the air and disappeared past the retaining walls. I could say with absolute certainty I was the most relieved individual on the battlefield to see the thing leave, even if it wasn't as a pile of slag. Fire from the enemy positions started to lessen over the next few minutes and before I even met back up with Captain Sulla I could see Tau transports and PDF chimeras falling back towards the central hub. With our forces and armoured vehicles fully deployed, they must have realized their best bet was to make a concentrated defence in the central region. That, or they were merely luring us into an even bigger firestorm. Either way, we had no choice but to push forward so I joined Captain Sulla in her command chimera.

"How are the other landing parties fairing?" I asked the vox operator.

"Light resistance but they're reporting Tau and PDF forces falling back towards the central hub as well. Major Broklaw is asking for a status report."

I decided to answer the Major personally. I told him we were a little bruised from the welcoming party but were making good progress. I also asked him if they had any encounters with any battlesuits and was a little surprised to learn that we had encountered the only one thus far. Regardless, I warned him to keep an eye out for those brutes dropping from the sky and to be wary of attacks from any direction. Broklaw reminded us of our orders to regain control of the starport by any means necessary, which would be a lot easier if we had more soldiers at our disposal but the next wave of transports would not arrive for some time.

Noticing Sulla standing at the turret, I tugged on her pant leg to prompt her return to the inside of the chimera. She seemed to be in good spirits, a satisfied grin slapped across her otherwise soaked face. "I'm thinking of setting up a temporary med-station for the wounded near the perimeter and leaving a few squads to watch the rear while the rest of us advance through the main causeway to the central hub," Sulla informed me.

"Exactly what I was thinking," I lied. I hadn't given much thought to our next move. The causeway, though, looked like a good place for opportunists like the Tau to set up another ambush. Glancing to a map of the starport one of the vox operators was examining, I pointed out to Sulla a service entrance to the buildings that lined the causeway. A few fire teams would be able to move along with the convoys and take out the ambushers while they were too preoccupied to notice us moving through the building behind them.

"Two teams to a side should be sufficient," Sulla concluded after a quick scan of the map.

"I'll go with one," I added. Sulla didn't object, in fact she probably relished the idea of getting out from under my supervision and I just wanted to get out of the rain for a while. Sulla gave me her best teams for dealing with close-quarters combat, the team I stayed with being led by a Sergeant Grifen.

"Hey there Commissar, glad to see the bluies didn't zap ya," I was greeted cheerfully by Magot, whom I lost track of when the battlesuit tried to reduce me to a charred pulp.

"The feeling's mutual," I replied. "I don't wanna be pulp."

A few lasbolts made short work of the service entrance's lock and our two teams filed into the narrow corridors. With barely enough room to walk two abreast, our forces quickly divided themselves up to sweep through the multiple levels. Somehow, I managed to tag along with Magot, who was her team's sub-altern, mostly because she had lost a couple of her troopers during the initial assault and my presence brought the team up to four members. Plus, the little sociopath had grown on me a bit and I sort of wanted to make sure she got through this ordeal in one piece. Our team had been tasked with the upper floor, Trooper Gorr taking the lead, followed by Magot, myself, and Trooper Villhon in the rear. Damp rockrete walls lined with pipes and barely-functioning luminators greeted us on the top floor. It was quiet but we could hear footsteps and hushed muttering in the distance, prompting all of us to slow our advance. I hugged the wall on the right side, opposite to the side whose rooms faced the causeway, using the doorway nooks for cover that were conveniently spaced every five or six meters along the whole length.

Operating entirely by hand signals, Gorr primed a frag grenade with Villhon at the first door. We waited until we heard the shooting start and then Gorr tossed the frag in. A few panicked shouts were quickly silenced by the grenade's blast and then the two troopers rushed in to finish off any survivors. Not surprising, the Tau were quick to realize the flanking maneuver once they heard the grenade go off and Magot and I managed to catch a few soldiers by surprise as they rushed into the halls. In these tight corridors, the Tau's superior range didn't matter. Unfortunately, we also didn't have much cover and it didn't take long for my eyes to start to hurt from the plasma bolts flashing against the rockrete.

"Damn, there are a lot of them," Magot commented, putting a three-round burst through the chest of one Tau.

"The more shooting at us means there are less shooting at the convoy," I explained. Suddenly, a fatal flaw in my cover became apparent when the door I was leaning so hard against opened up and I uncerimoniously fell through. A very surprised PDF trooper on the other side acted more on reflex than good sense as he managed to brace my fall before realizing I wasn't an ally.

I was polite enough to thank him before putting a lasbolt through his surprised face. Some days I think I should have waited to get back on my feet before killing him as the loss of the support left me falling to the floor once again. I'm not sure who was more surprised, though, me as I lay on the floor staring up at the hallway or the line of PDF troopers who stared back at me. Though I don't know the answer to that question, I do know I was the one who acted faster, drawing my second laspistol and hammering the triggers. The tight corridor kept them so confined that many shots (mostly the ones from my hotshot laspistol) punched through one trooper and hit those next in line.

"Nice shooting!" Magot called out from the back in the main hall once all the troopers before me were dead.

"Bastards made me lose my hat," I grumbled back, picking it off the floor and dusting it off. Joining Magot back in the hall, we had managed to make some progress as I noticed Villhon and Gorr a few doors up holding down the Tau with heavy fire. Gorr motioned for us to move up before suppressing the Tau with a burst of full auto, allowing Magot and I join them.

"Top floor, right-side troops, what's your progress?" an unfamiliar voice asked through my comm bead.

"Not very far," I answered. "Maybe a few doors down."

"Good, cause I'm about to blow a few walls apart." Apparently I was talking to a tank commander who was making sure he wasn't going to hit us as he fired a salvo through a window, causing the whole building to shudder as a door down the corridor was blown from its hinges.

"Nice, could you put a few shots in the windows to the left and right of that?" I asked.

"You got it but all these free shots don't grow on trees," he replied, unaware he was talking to a commissar. A few moments later, a whole section of wall was blown into scrap and rubble, filling the corridor with a cloud of rockrete dust and was followed soon afterwards by a repeat performance a few meters further down. Between the concussive blast and the flying debris, there were very few soldiers able to put up a fight as we rushed down the hall, dispatching anybody still breathing. While Gorr and Villhon continued sweeping up the remainder of the corridor, finding little resistance left at this point, Magot and I took a moment check on some of the dead – a mixture of Tau and PDF troopers. I hoped to find somebody alive in the lot so that I could get some information on what awaited us in the central hub.

"Serves them right for siding with the bluies," Magot commented, spitting on the body of a PDF trooper who had several holes through his chest thanks to her.

"Well I imagine these made pretty tempting offers," I replied, hoisting from a dead sergeant what appeared to be a Tau plasma weapon of the carbine variety. With firepower like that I could imagine why they thought they could stand a chance of winning. I must admit, I was half-tempted to help myself to it but I eventually decided against it, not wishing for any of our soldiers mistaking me for one of the traitors. Plus the added firepower probably wasn't worth the whole blasphemy and eternal damnation.

I tossed the weapon aside and was about to move on when I heard footsteps rapidly approaching. They belonged to a sizable man who, judging by the dust and blood, managed to survive being nearly blown apart by a tank shell. Fuelled mostly by adrenaline and rage, the large man charged at me with fists almost the size of my face. Too close for my laspistol, I let it drop and drew out my shock maul. Probably plagued by a concussion, his swings were wild and uncoordinated (or he just really sucked at fighting) and I weaved passed them with a grace that comes from years of practice before driving the shock maul into his gut. On its lowest settings, it was enough to incapacitate somebody long enough to take control of them, such as by wrenching him into a tight headlock with just enough pressure that his neck would snap if I so much as twitched.

Once it was clear who was in control, I was able to ease the pressure enough so he could talk without straining himself. We needed to do a little interrogation after all.

"Murdering Imperial bastards!" he spat out the moment he could.

"Gee, haven't heard that one before," Magot muttered wholly unimpressed.

"Show some manners in front of a lady," I warned, tightening my grip for an instant. "Now I'm going to ask you a few questions and every time you piss me off, we're going to shoot a finger off, got it?"

"Frak you!" There was a crack of ionized air followed by the man trying to scream through my re-tightened grip, which thankfully muffled most of it.

"Sorry, did I shoot too soon?" Magot asked.

"A bit but I'll let it slide," I replied. "Now let's try this again before we had to start calling you 'Lefty' and that would be a real shame because I have very little patience left already. Now, nod if there is heavy armour waiting for us in the central hub."

Eventually, he nodded.

"Good, is it Tau?" Again, he nodded. After a while of chatting, nodding, and shooting, we got a fair amount of information out of him. We could have gotten a bit more but he eventually spat some insult regarding our sexual preferences and Magot stoved his head in with the butt of her rifle. He must have hit a sensitive spot with her.

"Uh, sorry about that commissar," Magot apologized, though appeared more embarrassed than ashamed.

"That's okay, my arms were getting sore anyway," I answered as I wiped some of the blood off my mask. I contacted Broklaw over the vox network and relayed the information, explaining how the Tau had apparently set up a number of hammerheads and sky rays in the courtyard, though I learned this information was coming a bit late. Apparently one of the landing parties had already reached the central hub and were being pinned down by the Tau tanks and one of our transport shuttles got shot down by a barrage of sky ray missiles when it tried to leave.

"What's this about a transport going down?" Cain's voice suddenly cut into the conversation. His transport must have broken through the atmosphere to be able to join in on us and I imagined the news would make even a Hero of the Imperium a bit nervous. All that heroism doesn't do much good when your ride is blown apart with you in it.

"The starport is too hot to land right now, you'll have to hold position until we can clear out the anti-air batteries," I reported, though he groaned at the news.

"Where's another good LZ?"

"Uhh…I remember there being a large park about five clicks Northeast of the starport. It should be large enough but you could be dropping right into the middle of them for all we know. I'd highly advise against it Cain."

"Well all I know right now is that we're under sporadic fire already and if somebody is going to try and kill me I'd at least like the opportunity to be able to kill them back, thank you very kindly!" Cain did bring up a valid point and were I in his situation I'd want to get the warp off of that transport as well, though mine would be for far more selfish reasons than his. The LZ I suggested was the closest one I could think of that wouldn't put him into too much danger but even that was relative as he could be landing on top of a whole platoon of Tau. However, if anybody could pull off such a daring maneuver, it'd be Commissar Cain. I bid him the Emperor's blessing and returned to my mission.

"Things are about to get worse aren't they commissar?" Magot asked cautiously.

"Nonsense…they were already this bad, we just didn't know it."


	7. SEVEN

**SEVEN**

Though I wouldn't admit it in front of a Guardsman or officer or an inquisitor or…basically anybody really but if somebody asked me today to place a bet in a one-on-one fight between a Leman Russ tank and a Tau hammerhead, I'd be hard-pressed to find a good reason to side with the Leman Russ. In a straight-up fight, the hammerhead had far better range, firepower, and mobility and made our tanks look like rockrete blocks in comparison. Their main guns could punch holes through our tank's armour even at the most extreme of ranges. Often times our tanks were torn apart before the commander had time to shout an order to the crew. Do not mistaken me for a Tau-lover, though, because I know that very rarely do our tanks meet with the enemy in straight-up fights and what our tanks might lack in finesse and firepower they more than make up for in numbers and resilience. If victory meant losing a few dozen tanks in the process then that would be the game plan.

Of course, before Magnus Viridis I was still pan-eyed naïve about the potential of alien technosorcery and fully-convinced in the unparalleled nature of our war machines. If the run-in with the Tau battlesuit hadn't already jarred my eyes open to just what kind of power I was dealing with, I would have been painfully surprised by what awaited us in the starport central hub. Maybe even a little terrified. With all the buildings we knew that our advancing forces were being watched. What we didn't know was that Tau forces were able to use their technology to sight targets for their tanks with such precision that their first shot punched right through the thin rockrete walls that concealed our approach before blasting a hole through our lead tank. When that happened, the last place I wanted to be was inside the chimera that Grifen's team and I had hitched a ride with to the central hub. As Cain had said earlier, if people were going to try and kill me I at least wanted the opportunity to kill them back.

Within ten minutes of our arrival into the central hub all of the Leman Russ tanks assigned to Captain Sulla had been lost. Only a single annihilator-class tank was left to ward off the remaining Hammerheads.

Any building or wall not more than a few meters thick was being perforated by concealed the Hammerheads. This was particularly notorious at intersections where the Tau fire would fire through a building, destroying a tank and at the same time creating a flaming roadblock. One by one intersections were blocked off, funnelling our ground forces into the Tau killing zone. This was the main tactic for the Tau. By the end of the battle for the starport, almost every building the central hub had at least one corner blasted apart. Thankfully, despite the Tau's supremacy in range and firepower, the urban-like layout of the courtyard and the numerous approaches allowed some of the Leman Russ tanks assigned to the other landing parties to get within range of the enemy without fully exposing themselves…some of the time at least.

"I can see why they were so hard-pressed to keep the peace on Gravalax," I commented idly, having watched some of the ammunition in the burning husk of a Leman Russ cook off and spark several more explosions.

"Cain and the Lord General felt it was the most prudent course of action," Sulla replied, though her tone was more of disgust after witnessing the same display of fireworks. "Apparently it was a tactical unsound theatre of operation." Judging by the slight alteration in her tone, she had mimicked the Lord General's words exactly. Sulla and I had reconvened for a short debrief and to get up-to-speed on the anarchy that was ensuing in the central hub. At the very back our of advance, taking shelter beneath the awning of a large warehouse, things appeared relatively calm if you ignored the constant sounds of explosions and gunfire in the background. Sulla knelt at what remained of the building's corner, peering into the rain and darkness with her amplivisor while I was more than content analyzing the situation via my dataslate. There was slow progress across our fronts with the emphasis on slow. Still, progress was progress and we had the advantage of numbers on our side.

"If we can eliminate the threat from the sky rays we can get our transports landing again. The Kriegans think that they'll probably have them all parked around here," I explained as I pulled Sulla back in order to point to the corresponding area on my dataslate. It was an educated guess as to their location but it made sense that the missile launchers would be as far back in their lines as possible, which meant they were likely located near the main entrance of the starport where they could chuck missiles at any landing transports with impunity. It also meant that getting to them entailed punching our way through a lot of Tau armour, which Sulla was quick to point out.

"Do you think a tank might be able to squeeze through this channel?" I asked, pointing to a small alleyway that ran from our position and along the circumference of the starport. It functioned primarily as a service corridor for passenger vehicles to move quickly from the main terminal to the landing pads and, if the scaling of the map was accurate, probably around four and three-quarter meters across.

Sulla took a closer look at the map, humming quietly in thought as she drudged up the technical specifications from the older parts of her memory. Being a former quartermaster, she probably knew the exact size and weight of every vehicle in the motor pool. Eventually, though, she let out a quiet sigh. "It's too narrow. It'd tear the sponsons right off if we tried to drive a tank through it."

I was just about to join her in a sigh of resignation when a thought crossed my mind. "Wait, the annihilator doesn't have any sponsons! That would fit, wouldn't it?"

Sulla's eyes lit up like a child's on Emperor's Day, which was all the answer I needed. If we could squeeze the annihilator tank into that channel, we would be able to ride it all the way up to the main entrance and take the sky rays by surprise with an attack from the rear. It was borderline insane, of course, which was supposed to be the kind of plans Cain told me to keep Sulla from hatching but it may very well have been our only option for victory. Whoever went with the tank would attract a lot of attention once they started firing at the Tau rearguard and I didn't doubt that the Tau would have eyes on the back door. Even worse, the annihilator was the only tank we had left in our corner of the central hub, thanks to the inordinate number of hammerheads waiting for us. Once again, the Tau had seemed quite intent on making our advance the most difficult of the three regimental assaults. I figured they would have gone after Broklaw since he was the ranking officer here but I was sort of relieved to know he wasn't facing half the trouble I was.

"Okay then, we'll get the tank to meet us at the entry point and we'll drive all the way around the bluies," Sulla said enthusiastically as she was about to race off to rally her command squad. Since this was the exact kind of behaviour from Sulla that Cain had warned me against, I had to act quickly to keep Sulla put. Acting quickly, though, is not one of those things I was ever very good at. Sure I came to a resolution but they were not always the best ones and in this case I reached and grabbed hold of the Captain. Normally this wouldn't have been an issue except that the only thing I managed to get hold of was that long, blonde ponytail of hers. Her head snapped back with an impressive yelp of surprise before nearly falling over herself from the sudden change in velocity and, suffice to say, she was rightly pissed when he straightened herself out.

"What the frak was that for?" she demanded, unsurprisingly angry. Most people wouldn't dare yell at commissars but any woman will tell you that you never, ever, pull on their hair, not unless you had a death wish.

I managed to maintain my calmness, though. Had this not been a battlefield I would have felt a bit awkward but war had a nice way of putting such trivial social anxieties aside. "Cain would have my head if I let you, a company CO, charge behind enemy lines in a nigh-suicidal attack. You are Captain Sulla, not a lieutenant. You're job is here: leading the entire company. These men and women are depending on you to focus on the big picture. Otherwise, a lot of people are going to get killed, you understand me Sulla?"

Had this encounter happened a few months earlier, I would've just pulled the commissarial trump card and silenced the whole argument but taking a few seconds to reason with Sulla not only got what I wanted but it also imparted the sense that I was not an unreasonable person. It seemed like the sort of thing Cain would do and building a reputation among the soldiers and officers was a necessity at such an early stage in my career. My father never argued with those serving under him, he merely gave them the ultimatum of 'obey or I shoot you' and if you hadn't guessed by now, I took a vow to never end up like my father. Sulla was disappointed, that was to be expected, but I could tell by her reluctant submission that she understood my reasoning.

"Everybody is counting on you to get this job done Sulla," I reassured her, making sure that I didn't leave her feeling dejected. "And we all know you can get this done. Cain himself told me he wouldn't have let me take the first transport down if he didn't have complete faith in the landing party." Okay, those weren't Cain's exact words but a little extrapolation never hurt anyone, especially when it got me what I needed, which in this case was a confident grin from the captain. With the captain squared away, I excused myself and informed her that I was going to meet with the annihilator tank. To be expected, Sulla was puzzled why she was too important to go but for some reason I considered myself expendable.

"It was my crazy idea, might as well accept responsibility for it," I explained with the patented Kriegan fatalistic grin. "Look on the bright side; when I kick it, you'll be free to do whatever you want."

Having voxed the tank commander to the rendezvous point at an entrance to the side channel, the only other decision was who else to send with it. If need be we would have the infantry follow along on foot but I recalled seeing some intact passenger carriers when we passed by into the central hub. They weren't exactly armoured personnel carriers but a chimera wouldn't fit into those narrow channels even if we hacked one of the treads off. Eventually, we decided upon two squads to escort the annihilator; the first being Grifen's squad as they had performed so admirably before so I trusted their abilities; and the second was a veteran squad led by a Sgt. Jydais, who I reluctantly chose due to his close proximity to the entry point. The reason for my reluctance was primarily over the squad leader.

Isaac Jydais was probably about as much of a disciplinary case for Cain as Magot but for all the wrong reasons. Under any other commissar the man would probably have been shot for insubordination and, to be honest, I sometimes wish Cain had shot him. The man made it his mission in life to be as much of a pain to Cain as humanly possible. Cain's reluctance to apply any sort of capital punishment was because Jydais was a damn good soldier when he was on the field with enemies to unload his anger upon and were it not for his discipline problems he would have been leading a whole company rather than just a squad. Alas, that was the main problem with the man to begin with – he used to lead second platoon back in the 301st and was a shoe-in for becoming a major and then even higher. Back then, Jydais was described as one of the bravest men on the field who stood against whole Ork mobs without even so much as a twitch of apprehension. His brother in the 315th, however, was not so brave and was executed for cowardice in the line of duty by the regimental commissar. Since the killing of his kid brother wasn't considered enough of a punishment to the man, as continued penance the commissariat had Captain Jydais demoted all the way back to trooper with the advice that if he wanted his gold bars back then from now until further notice he had to kill twice as hard as any other guardsman in the field.

That was nearly ten years ago and Jydais had been killing pretty much anything in his way in order to get his old job back. He almost had it too, several times, but every time he got close to his goal he did something to get knocked down a couple of ranks. Broklaw and Kasteen supposedly did everything they could to help the man but the death of his brother apparently hit harder than any of us imagined and the stalwart leader had degraded into a booze-drinking, belligerent husk of a human being. He was angry and bitter and he pretty much blamed it all on the commissariat. Cain told me to give Jydais and his squad (as they were all of similar mind with regards to the commissariat though not as extreme) a wide berth no matter what. To be fair, the man had damn good reason to be angry - I just didn't like how it was sometimes directed at me.

I was, unfortunately, the last one to arrive at the entry point and I noticed Grifen and Jydais already consulting a map in order to better coordinate their efforts. Jydais may have had little more than contempt for commissars but he seemed quite professional with his fellow guardsmen and women, if only a bit on the surly side. Next to Jydais' squad, Grifen and her team looked like a bunch of children and even the youngest on the veteran's squad had sixteen years of combat experience under his belt. I would have slipped in unnoticed had it not been for Magot's cheerful greeting, which brought the two sergeants' attention over to me.

"Commissar Abel," Grifen welcomed me as Jydais could barely get a hello past his contempt. "We're all set to go whenever you're ready."

"Or not," Jydais interrupted, weathered blue eyes gazing sternly at me. "This plan doesn't need you commissar. You can go 'take shelter' in the command chimera while we handle the fighting." I could tell by his tone on the shelter part that he was just barely hiding his disdain.

"Incredibly risky, high-priority mission," I answered plainly. "I'd feel far more confidant about things looking after the matter personally."

"We know our duty," Jydais insisted, a slight hint of malice slipping through his words. He was probably using the plural in order to try and draw Grifen to his side for support but I doubt the younger sergeant, of whom I had heard a great many good things of from Cain, would side against a commissar. "You should just go back to waving flags and making speeches and leave the fighting to the soldiers."

If I hadn't been trying so hard to build a reputation as being fair and even-handed, I would've put a lasbolt through the man's head right then and there. As a result, though, I had no choice but to take a more verbally aggressive stance with the sergeant; I had to assert my dominance in the matter, lest I forever plague myself with the reputation as the commissar who got talked down to by a non-com (non-commissioned officer).

"My duty, sergeant, is to ensure the combat effectiveness of this regiment, most of which is stuck in orbit until we can silence those damnable missile launchers and by the Emperor I will see to it that the rest of those soldiers can get down on the ground and fight in His name. This mission is critical sergeant so I am making it my duty to ensure those things are destroyed even if I have to strap a melta-bomb to your chest and throw you at those tanks! Is that clear?"

I probably looked more foolish than I realized at the time, a barely 5'6" young woman trying to win a yelling match with a sergeant twice her size and experience. He'd probably been yelled at by far scarier things than the likes of me so I shouldn't have been surprised that he didn't even flinch at my remarks. "Good luck with that then," he said simply, malice and venom surprisingly absent from his tone but I realized soon afterwards that he was basically daring me to even try and pull such a stunt. To be honest, he was right. After facing orks, tyranids, and heretics, what chance did I have on getting the better of him? If he really wanted me dead, he could have probably killed me before anybody would be able to object.

"If you lot are done bickering, can we get this show on the road? I'd rather die by the enemy's hand than by boredom sitting here," shouted the tank commander from the nearby annihilator. Thank the Emperor somebody had their priorities in order. With one last parting glare, Jydais ushered his team off to one of the passenger carriers, which Grifen's team had taken the liberty to procure while they had waited for me. Each carrier, almost like a miniature bus, could fit six passengers along with the driver. However, somebody apparently failed basic mathematics as we had only procured two vehicles. That meant we had enough room for fourteen soldiers, despite the fact that there was quite clearly fifteen of us (myself, Grifen and her seven troopers, and Jydais plus his five). Once again, Jydais suggested that I hide out in the command chimera but I promptly dismissed his remarks and climbed onto the tank. Sure I was going to get wet but for a brief moment I felt a bit calmer knowing that a Kriegan tank commander was sitting in the turret a few feet from me.

"Commissar Waffans would never let anybody take that kind of attitude with him," the tank commander commented as our three-vehicle convoy started down the narrow channel. Tight didn't begin to describe the situation but whoever was driving the tank did a remarkable job and his experience with the vehicle showed as he skilfully navigated us down the entire length of the corridor without even grazing the rockrete walls. After comparing the risks, I decided to have the vehicles follow behind – the carriers were simply too tall to sit out in front and would've blocked the annihilator's line of fire if we ran into trouble.

By this point, the fight for the starport had been raging on for almost an hour and the downpour had soaked every layer of clothing I had on, making my commissarial greatcoat a solid ten or fifteen pounds heavier. The Valhallans were probably in even worse condition as their longcoats could absorb quite bit of water. Though nobody made a complaint, we were all relieved to be able to sit down for a few minutes. The tank commander, Rummel, and I kept watch as we headed on our way, the high retaining walls of the corridor masking us from sight, though I worried that the noise would attract their attention. I listened over the vox channels to keep tabs on how the battle was progressing and caught a few garbled reports of Cain's transport touching down somewhere in the city. I even chatted briefly with Ruput, who was having a wonderful time 'putting the xenos in their place.' His soldier-at-heart mannerisms were a refreshing change from the usual hoity-toity upper class officer attitude that had almost become a norm in my life. To be honest, I still think about him quite a bit to this day but given everything we have been through together that shouldn't be too surprising. Of course, I reminisce about my days in the 597th all the time, given that they were arguably the most enjoyable years of my career even if they almost killed me on numerous occasions.

However, in Vertens the realization that these would be the best years of my life had yet to dawn upon me. Instead, I merely shivered and held my soaked greatcoat close to my chest, hoping that I could muster some comfort from it. Alas, it had none left to part with. I also muttered various things under my breath about how putting up with Haeg might have been the better course of action compared to soaking on a distant planet with the ever-present threat of being vaporized by Tau weaponry.

"Hey mom, dad, are we there yet?" Magot jokingly chimed through the comm bead.

"Don't make me come back there," Rummel replied, joining in on the humour. There were a few chuckle and a couple other joined in on the antics, such as Gorr who whined about how Villhon was sitting on his side of the seat, and Grifen carried out an impromptu game of 'I spy,' though everything was basically grey at this point, which made the game rather difficult. Of course, nobody forgot the reason they were sitting where they were and once the tank commander sounded that we were nearing our destination the joking immediately ceased and we became soldiers once more.

"Okay kids, out of the pool," Grifen instructed as the two carriers emptied.

"Lalee, take a look," Jydais instructed, sending forth one of his veterans, a lanky looking fellow who carried a long-las and had all the markings of a seasoned sniper.

After climbing over the tank, Lalee hurried to the edge of an opening in the inner wall, which marked our exit and, hopefully, the rear line of the Tau formations. He only got halfway there when we all heard the distinctive hum of charging energy cells and a number of Tau drones appeared from over the walls. Any element of surprise we may have had was lost as we exchanged fire with the sentry drones, plasma fire and lasbolts lighting up the air above us in a vibrant display that should've attracted everybody's attention. Thanks to the massed firepower from a trio of hellguns from Jydais' team, we were able to swat the bothersome drones without any difficulty but it didn't take long for infantry to start entering the channel. The first bunch were PDF, though, and were quite surprised to see a Leman Russ wedged between the rockrete walls; a sentiment that didn't last very long as its heavy bolter opened up on them, reducing most of them to a bloody paste.

"Pop smokes and advance," Jydais shouted and on cue a bunch of smoke grenades landed in the entryway, masking our position in a thick grey cloud and giving the veteran team a chance to advance to the opposite side of the opening.

"Right then, nice chatting with you commissar but we've got killing to do," Rummel said whimsically as he disappeared into his tank. Driving the tank into the opening, we finally had the elbow room to engage the enemy in full with Grifen and Jydais' teams flanking the tank. I took control of the heavy stubber and once the smoke cleared enough for people to differentiate walls from people, we opened fire with everything we had. As it turned out, we were right on top of the enemy's rearguard The PDF troopers left to watch over the area, falsely secured in the knowledge that no tank could get behind them, were woefully outmatched by the annihilator. In addition there were a handful of Tau soldiers but most of them were unarmed and likely responsible for loading and co-ordinating the half-dozen sky rays that were lobbing missiles into the distance.

Now even the annihilator on our side and the enemy caught unprepared did not mean that we had an easy fight ahead of us. Any one of the six sky rays could easily turn its missile payload against us and all of them were armed with smaller anti-infantry cannons and rocket pods. With a lightning-like flash, the annihilator fired its twin-link lascannons into the nearest sky ray, tearing a hole through its engines and sending the vehicle slamming into its neighbour. The skimmers tried to orientate themselves to bring their weapons to bear against us but with the tight quarters of the central hub's streets, only the closest ones could act quickly and by the time any of the Tau armour could return fire another two had been taken down by lascannon fire and krak rockets from Jydais' men. With the road clogged by wreckage, the remaining sky rays took the opportunity to make a run for it and since we didn't want to try and fight our way through the enemy's rear lines, which were no doubt fully aware of our attack, we decided to let them go. With the sky rays too busy running to fire missiles, we voxed our success to Sulla, who could then pass the message on to start landing transports as our window of opportunity could be very brief.

"What's our status sergeant?" I asked when the last of the enemies retreated and our guns fell silent.

"Avruch and Seppala are dead and Villhon is wounded but she's not critical," Grifen reported. Two dead and one wounded was a lot better than I had expected but I had also expected to face a lot more resistance. It was as though the Tau had barely enough forces to keep the starport under control, which left me wondering why they were attempting such a risky tactic. Everything I had heard about Tau military tactics gave me a sense of them being somewhat cautious and meticulous in planning. It just seemed…too easy.

I regretted muttering the assessment of things being too easy as Gorr immediately shouted something about a hammerhead before he was reduced to an unsightly mess across the road and the rockrete wall next to him shattered into dust. One of their hovering death machines came into full view, flanked by a pair of similarly-shaped armoured transports, all of which began to rain plasma bolts on our position. Rummel's gunner managed to fire the lascannons and punched a hole through the hovertank's starboard engine port, which caused the hammerhead's right side to crash into the ground. Even partially debilitated, though, the hammerhead's railgun let out a thunderclap and the next thing I knew I was laying on the rockrete, completely out of it, being dragged off by…Drere, I think it was. When the ringing in my ears stopped and the world came back into focus, I had been propped up against the inner wall and Grifen was still trying to get my attention.

"Come on Abel, wake up already!" Grifen shouted, which were the first words I was to discern. A cold wetness against my face worked well to bring me back to my sense as somebody had pulled off my mask, no doubt to make sure that I was still breathing.

"Am I dead?" I muttered weakly, my head and back aching.

"No but that could change if you don't get up and help us," she explained and a quick glance to my surroundings informed me that our situation had gotten a whole lot worse during my bout of disorientation. Apparently, I got knocked off the tank when the railgun lanced the entire vehicle and we retreated back into the channel, only to get cut off by Tau forces approaching us in from the rear. Jydais and his team managed to arrange the passenger carriers to give us cover from both directions but we were now getting hammered from both directions by plasma and laser fire.

Since the walls weren't being blasted apart by a railgun I could assume that the damage to the hammerhead prevented it from continuing the fight and the Tau APCs were probably holding back in fear of additional rocket strikes. It didn't improve our situation by much but at least we didn't have to worry about being smashed across the front grill of Tau transport.

"I don't suppose the cavalry is on its way," I said, groaning slightly as Grifen helped me back to my feet. She said something about contacting Sulla but with the last of our tanks a smouldering heap of twisted metal there wasn't much chance of help coming to us soon. It would only be a matter of time before another hovertank showed up and made interpretive artwork across the walls with our pulped guts and that's if the infantry didn't finish us off first.

Following Grifen, I joined her and a half-dozen other troopers who were exchanging fire with a group of Tau soldiers who were using our former tank as cover. What fire we could send back to the Tau was always brief and ineffective as being flanked on two sides meant we couldn't keep our heads up for very long, lest we wished to catch a round in the back.

"I see you're finally back from your nap commissar," Jydais quipped as he let loose a burst from his hellgun. "If you're not too busy how about giving us a hand."

"Keep up the sarcasm and you'll hope the Tau kill you first sergeant," I replied. Perhaps it was the stress we were all under as I normally would've held my tongue against such remarks and I soon wished I had as I saw Jydais swing his hellgun right towards me. I thought I was about to get my face blown off when his free hand shot out and shoved me to the side with a shout of 'move it!' As I hit the rockrete, his hellgun let loose, catching a trio of kroot warriors that had scaled the walls. For a second, I thought the man had just saved my life but I realized that he had merely been saving his fellow troopers, who would've been hacked to pieces had the kroot gotten in range. Saving my ass was just an unfortunate side-effect of the act. He didn't even bother to help me up and simply went back to focusing on the Tau in the distance.

Since we weren't going to get anywhere with our current strategy, I tried contacting our allies on the vox channels. At the very least, I wanted to know if our airborne allies were landing. When I got in touch with Sulla, she was delighted to inform us that our tactic had worked as planned and fresh transports had just unloaded. I breathed a sigh of relief, though for whatever reasons I wasn't sure. Perhaps just the knowledge that our inevitable deaths weren't in vain was a comforting thought for me. However, my conversation with Sulla was hijacked by, of all people, Major Broklaw. Somehow he had caught wind of one of Grifen's sit-reps and got the impression that I had been seriously hurt. It was awfully nice of him to check up on me but I was more concerned with the potential help he could redirect to my location.

"How bad is the situation there?" Broklaw asked.

"Just stuck between a rock and a hard place and they've both got plasma guns," I replied as calmly as though I were reporting the day's weather. If Broklaw said something in response I never heard it as a section of wall up ahead was blasted through, creating an opening wide enough for the PDF traitors to drive a full-sized Leman Russ into the corridor. "Didn't catch any of that Broklaw, PDF armour just showed up."

It was difficult to hold a conversation during a firefight and even harder when a tank decides to crash the party. Grifen grabbed me by the arm to pull me into a run as we sprinted away from the passenger carrier just moments before the tank reduced it to a flaming wreck. A piece of metal must've struck me in the back because I went face-down into the rockrete, my ears ringing slightly and Broklaw still shouting into my ear.

Maybe it was the concussion or maybe it was the prospect of my immanent death but figuring I was probably only going to have a few seconds left to speak in my life, I just said whatever floated to the surface. "Listen Ruput…a-about what I said…back at the governor's palace on Adumbria, I know I said never to bring it up again but…well, I just w-wanted to say…"

Apparently I couldn't even get my last words right because another explosion drowned out everything I had planned to say. However, when the dust settled I realized I was very much alive and the Leman Russ threatening to stomp all our heads in was now a smoking crater in the rockrete. Dazed and panicked PDF troopers scrambled for cover only to be cut down by heavy bolter and lasgun fire. I could hear some cheers rising from the troopers behind me, one of whom pulled me back to my feet and helped me along to join our rescuers.

"The Major told me you could use a hand," Waffans voice greeted me through my comm bead as there was no way I would've been able to hear him as he rested atop the gargantuan mass of death and metal known as the Traitor's Lament. Kriegan troopers hurried me and the wounded Valhallans into the shelter of a chimera where a medic insisted on examining me despite my insistence that I was fine (apparently, though, I was bleeding from the forehead). I deferred the medic to look after the wounded troopers instead and popped my head through the chimera's top hatch. The Traitor's Lament was tearing apart the remaining PDF and Tau forces, letting another monstrous belch of plasma fire that blew apart an enemy chimera and its sentinel escort. Waffans was using the tank's vox amplifier to spit out malevolent taunts and rallying calls for everyone nearby to hear. I particularly liked his one remark to the PDF traitors that there was no point in trying to surrender and they should just put a lasbolt through their heads because he was going to carve out their skulls and use them to build a monument to His Divine Majesty.

It took me a while to realize that I had left Broklaw hanging in mid-conversation and since I didn't want him to get the impression that I had forgotten about him (or worse, got killed), I quickly contacted him on the chimera's vox.

"I think it's safe to say we've got control of the starport now," I said. There was still a pocket or two of resistance left but with the main exit in our control the Tau didn't stick around and, befitting of those who sided with the xenos, left behind the PDF traitors who didn't have the fortune of possessing skimmers to hop the walls in.

"That's all well and good but we're getting reports from Cain and the unit he's with. It seems like the whole damn city is coming down on top of them," Broklaw replied.

"Guess our plan to wait for the rest of the team and take the city on one long front is going to have to wait, huh?" I said and sighed in defeat.

"We still don't have enough troops on the ground for a coordinated offensive but Sulla's already volunteered to lead a detachment of her soldiers to try and link up with Commissar Cain."

That sounded just like something Sulla would do and were I not so exhausted I probably would've tried to argue against it. However, if Sulla was going to go gallivanting around the city at the lead of an armoured column, I wasn't going to sit on the sidelines. Besides, Cain would probably gut me if he found out I had left Sulla to run free through the city. I had a request for a pick-up relayed to Sulla and, despite their insistence, I told Grifen and her squad to stay put – she had already lost almost half her team today and I wasn't going to push their luck.

"Ariel," Broklaw began, catching my attention immediately through the use of my given name, "you were saying something earlier. Something about Adumrbia but you got cut off at the end."

I figured an astute man like Broklaw wouldn't have let that go so I quickly came up with an excuse to deflect the issue. "Oh, um…I just…uh, wanted to thank you for the dance. That's all. Oh, gotta run – my ride's here!"

Shutting off my comm bead and stuffing it into my pocket was an easy way to avoid unwanted conversations, though Broklaw was probably smart enough to know a deflection when he saw it and would know well enough to let things go at that point. When I stepped out of the chimera, I noticed that Waffans, atop his mighty tank, seemed to be waiting for me.

"Going my way?" he mused coyly.


	8. EIGHT

**EIGHT**

Having soaked up enough water to almost double my body weight, an opportunity to dry off inside the armoured womb of a chimera was a welcomed relief. Being inside Sulla's command chimera, though, I had to be careful where I wrung my hair out and extra careful when moving my arms around, as I flung water in every direction whenever I moved. Even though we were part of a convoy spearheading a push through potentially Tau-controlled city streets, I figured I had time to hang my coat and hat near a heat exhaust to let them dry out a little bit. Even though there was still a lot of fighting left, I was still a bit dazed and shook up from my close brushes with death (and explosions) so I assumed, rightly or wrongly. Probably both that I wasn't going to be in the thick of it for the time being. With the adrenaline wearing out from my system, all the aches and pains of having been flung from the top of a Leman Russ were settling in and I realized shortly after sitting down that my shoulders were killing me. Combat also had a strange habit of working up a huge appetite so I fished a ration bar out of my pocket. It was a good thing that the wrapping kept the bar dry because it turned out to be the only thing in my possession still dry. It should be noted that the only thing less palatable than a military ration bar was a soggy military ration bar as they had a tendency to turn into a mushy sludge if allowed to soak up water (though when taken to an extreme and mixed with a bit of spice and warm powdered milk ration, it can be a semi-decent porridge).

"Any word from Cain?" I asked after munching on a mouthful.

"The occasional rallying call and indecipherable battle cry but so far not much in terms of tactical appraisals," the vox operator answered, handing me his headphones for a moment to hear what he was referring to. Were it not for his cemented reputation as a stalwart hero, I would likely have mistook those battle cries for incoherent shrieks of fear and panic-induced ramblings but the thought of Cain fleeing like a little child was difficult to fathom, though a little amusing if you were imaginative enough.

"Who's in command over there?"

"Captain Detoi."

"Maybe he's a bit more talkative," I muttered as I patched myself through to his vox channel. Since the good captain was still busy barking out orders to his lieutenants, I waited a few minutes as I didn't wish to interrupt him. From what I could gather from his orders, the situation did not sound good (then again, that had quickly become the norm for the day). Once things appeared to have settled down, I stepped into the conversation. "Captain Detoi, how's the situation over there?"

"Delicate," he replied tactfully. "Whom am I speaking to exactly?"

"It's Commissar Abel," I answered.

"Oh, my apologies commissar, I didn't recognize your voice." That was understandable as even the most stable conversation over a vox channel was like talking in a blizzard. "It looks like we've landed right into the middle of an enemy spearhead. We've got multiple Tau and PDF armour units across the north-western front as well as encircling PDF units to the south. We were lucky, though, I think we caught them a bit by surprise. We've formed a defensive parameter around the transport but enemy reinforcements seem to keep pushing in. It's like this whole Emperor-forsaken city wants us dead."

"Do you know where the commissar is?"

"Sorry but I'm afraid I lost sight of him and I haven't had much luck raising him on the vox. Not to sound impatient but when are you getting here?"

"Barring anything disastrous, I'd say about ten minutes." It was a generous estimate but Sulla had given orders to the whole convoy to keep advancing. Whether it was a coincidence or the city really was gunning for Detoi's men, resistance on route was very light. Most scattered pockets of infantry we ran into were easily torn apart by our heavy bolters and multilasers. The fact that at the very front was a rolling house of death probably deterred anybody from sticking their heads up. Our convoy lurched to a sudden halt with a shout from one of the driver's alerting us to krak rocket teams up ahead in one of the buildings. I can still remember Waffans boisterous laugh in response.

"Let's get rid of the problem then, shall we?" he mused and even from within the confines of a chimera some five vehicles back I could hear the roar of his tank's plasma cannon and the resonating 'boom' that it brought forth. At the time I wasn't too concerned with getting wet again just to see the result but days later when I strolled by the area I noticed that there was a massive pile of bricks and rubble where an apartment building used to be. I thought momentarily of the displaced citizenry but if its architecture was the same as the rest of the city, I'm pretty sure it had offended the Emperor somehow. If the Kriegans knew one thing, it was how to make a huge crater in the Emperor's name.

Gauging our progress by the increasing frequency of pings and clangs off our hull, I deduced we had entered the fray when it sounded as though there was a storm of raining bullets. When we lurched to a halt once more, we were officially in position and the other chimeras began to unload their troopers into the field. After grabbing my coat and hat, I popped the top hatch to take a cautious peak outside. I emerged just in time to get my retina stabbed by the flash of another plasma blast from the stormblade, which caught a PDF Leman Russ and its accompanying troopers completely by surprise. The term 'overkill' flashed through my mind briefly but as Cain had taught me over our years together, there really was no such thing. The Traitor's Lament continued pushing forward, bolters and lascannon lighting up anything that dared to oppose it and making good of its namesake. Sulla's chimera followed a Leman Russ tank as we continued our way through the narrowing streets of Vertens, which was, unfortunately forcing us to take an alternate route from Waffans. Even divided, though, our forces were making good speed as the lowly PDF forces were not only outmatched but unprepared for our assault. I got the impression that nobody had taken the liberty to inform them that the starport had fallen.

A flash of movement ahead drew my attention to newly arriving threats and a familiar sense of dread that I had only just gotten over. An infernal Tau battlesuit landed in the streets up ahead but before the tank could fire its payload we noticed something, or more specifically someone, falling from the rooftops. For a moment, I could hardly belief what I was witnessing but my eyes were not deceiving me and I had just watched Commissar Cain jump from a rooftop and land square on the back of a Tau battlesuit.

Even before my attachment to the 597th I had heard a fair bit about the exploits of Ciaphas Cain and had taken much of them with a grain of salt. I was sceptical to believe that a single man could achieve so much so quickly and against such impossible odds but those doubts soon departed when I witnessed what Cain was truly capable of in a fight. Now to be fair, having known and fought alongside the man for so many years I can say with little doubt that much of what a person hears is embellished to a slight degree. That isn't to say that Cain is not a hero of the Imperium and I would be the first to step to his defence against those who would venture such wild supposition – I merely state that all stories tend to get embellished, including his. However, to complain about such a small point is like complaining about receiving a baneblade and discovering that it only had ten barrels instead of the advertised eleven. Sure you didn't get what you were told but it's a baneblade for Emperor's sake and it'll be better than anything you'll likely come across.

That day I got my first real taste of what Cain the Hero was truly capable of. With no regards to his own safety he had leapt headlong onto a battlesuit. I also noticed that the rooftop that he had leapt from erupted from a hail of rockets seconds later though I doubt that he had ever taken notice of them. Somebody must have shouted to the tank commander ahead to hold his fire because the tank did nothing but watch as Cain clung with all his strength to the back of the machine. It appeared the machine failed to realize Cain's presence immediately but soon began to swing wildly in an attempt to buck him loose. All the technology in the galaxy, though, failed to help the Tau battlesuit. Though I could not see it from my vantage point, Cain wedged a primed grenade at the base of the battlesuit's neck. However, when Cain dropped down, the resulting blast failed to significantly damage the machine, leading me to suspect that it had only been a frag grenade (though a krak grenade would probably have killed him too if that had been the case). It didn't matter, though, as the pilot must have been disorientated as Cain ran from the machine unopposed, allowing our Leman Russ to finish it off with a close-range shot to the chest.

I like to think that Cain was both surprised and relieved to see my head poking from the top of the chimera as we came to a halt next to him. Despite being covered in a bit of rockrete dust and looking a tad winded, Cain seemed to be doing fine even without our timely intervention, not that he turned it down.

"Swing those turrets up high!" Cain shouted over the vox as he raced over to our chimera, clambering up the loading ramp. "There's still two more up there."

Almost as if on cue, two more battlesuits came into view at the top of the low buildings, energy cannons trained on the chimera. Almost everybody in the chimera started shouting 'back up' as the driver switched it into the reverse gear. I don't know why but the battlesuits seemed equally concerned with the fleeing chimera as the battle tank that was lining up its turret. While one engaged the tank, the other battlesuit continued on the rooftops in pursuit of us. The multilaser turret shredded the lining of the rooftops as it kept the machine at bay, scoring few hits as the lithe opponent kept jumping across the street. Though I knew there was no chance my laspistol would prove to be any deterrence to the battlesuit, I fired at it regardless, if only to give myself the small comfort of falsely believing I had any control in my survival at this point. Several plasma bolts scored the hull plating and only the advantage of my biotic eye allowed me to keep firing accurately despite the near-blinding flashes around me.

"We're going to need something a bit heavier," I shouted to the people below.

"Move aside commissar, I've got this," one of the guardsmen volunteered, opening small weapons crate and pulling out a single-shot missile launcher. Taking position in the top hatch, he readied his weapon, though the battlesuit was making itself a difficult target to track. "Come on you xeno bastard, hold still!"

Cain instructed the driver to move into a clearing to prevent the battlesuit from continuing to use the rooftops as cover. Dutifully, the chimera swung the vehicle sharply about face and drove down a narrow alley, crushing waste bins and dumpsters along the way, and into a sizeable clearing that would force the battlesuit to the ground if it wanted to continue its pursuit. Either by hubris or stupidity (probably both), the battlesuit landed a few meters behind us, its pilot probably confident in his victory. I like to imagine the smug look on his face quickly vanishing along with the rest of his head as the krak rocket punched straight through the frontal armour and blew apart the chest cavity. There were cheers and whoops of joy from the crew, except for Cain and I as we were supposed to remain calm and collected regardless of the outcome (though I was probably grinning like an idiot juvie).

"Okay, I think that's enough excitement for one day," Cain said with a relieved sigh, which was a sentiment we all felt. The universe, however, had other plans for us and our cheers were cut short when we heard an unfamiliar bestial roar cut through the storm. It was so heavy I felt my organs reverberate and it left an unpleasant feeling in my gut, the kind of feeling that told you that trouble was about to drop onto your lap.

"What in the warp was that?" Cain shouted into his comm bead. "Anybody got eyes on the source?"

"Golden Throne!" shouted the guardsman from the top hatch before letting out a blood-curdling cry as something massive chomped down on the soldier. From inside we couldn't tell at first what had happened; only that something just caused a shower of the guardsman's blood to dump onto our laps and then he was just as suddenly hoisted out from the chimera. We heard a loud chomping sound followed by an even louder roar, then the reassuring crackle of our multilaser firing. That, however, only lasted about a second before there was a loud bang and the turret gunner, with a large hole through his head, dropped into chimera's interior.

"Not to be redundant but what the frak was that?" I whispered, as if a loud noise would prompt another assault. Everyone else must have shared similar feelings because nobody moved and Cain's response was equally as hushed.

"I think it's kroot," he explained, realizing that the hole in the turret gunner didn't match any standard Tau or PDF weapon. Slowly, Cain and I leaned forward to try and peer through the top hatch and we gazed upon for the first time in our lives the giant beast known as a great knarloc. These massive beasts of war are apparently used by the kroot to tackle the most difficult of opponents, which left me wondering what we had done to earn so much attention. Its beady eyes gazed down through the open hatch and Cain and I realized we had exposed our presence. The beast dove in for another attack, its jagged, beak-like like jaw punching through the top hatch even though it was obviously too small to fit through. Everybody hugged the walls as tightly as they could as the beast's jaws thrashed inside the chimera in hopes of snagging a victim.

That victim, alas, was me. When any prospect of snagging a victim seemed lost, the knarloc pulled out, at which point we all realized (or at least I did and my panicked shout alerted the others) that my coat had somehow become ensnared upon the beast's jaw. Before I could shout 'merciful Emperor' I was hoisted out from the chimera and several meters into the air, held in place only by a handful of brass buttons and one hand clutching it tightly to my chest.

"Abel!" Cain shouted when he realized I hadn't yet become a knarloc snack.

"A little help! Right now!" I yelled back. It must have taken a moment or two for the creature to realize that it had actually snared a victim but when it did it flung its head back with enough force that I was practically ripped from my coat and hurled into the air. Whether by a genuine desire to save me despite the slim hope or simply seeing an opportunity to attack the beast, Cain lunged forward and plunged his chainsword into the creature's belly. Though its thick hide hindered his attack, the sudden attack caused the beast to flinch in rage and agony, causing its open maw to jerk away. Instead of dropping down its gullet, I struck it on the forehead and tumbled down its head and neck until hitting something solid on its upper back. Sharp clicks and whistles alerted me to my new situation; apparently a couple of kroot were riding upon the creature's back with the front one operating a primitive turret, which I happened to be resting against. They were probably as surprised as I was but not half as surprised when I levelled my laspistol and blew the first one's brains out. A sudden spasm from the beast jerked us to the side, sending my next shots horribly off-target. When I was finally able to right myself, I was staring down the barrel of a kroot rifle. I thought for certain I was going to need a new pair of undergarments, not to mention a new face, when a gloved hand suddenly reached up from the side, grabbed the kroot by the leg, and pulled it off the side. It let out an amusing little screech as it fell, hitting the rockrete with a reassuring thump before being shot to ribbons by our guardsmen in the chimera.

"Cain?" I asked rhetorically when I realized that he had managed to scale the side of the beast and had just pulled himself up into the saddle.

"Where's your hat?" Cain asked in response. He probably didn't expect a response nor did I give one since it was asinine to expect a person to hold onto their hat after being hurled into the air in preparation for becoming a tasty commissarial snack. Without a coat or a hat I was feeling rather…exposed, almost naked as it were, since those two items were the clearest symbols of my position as a commissar, not to mention they kept the bulk of the rain's chill at bay. Carefully, I swung around Cain and settled into the rear seat of the saddle – a move that might seem insane at first but it was arguably the safest place to hide from the creature. Unless it could do somersaults it wasn't going to dismount us by force

"Heh, kind of like riding the horses at the schola," I joked, still in disbelief at where I was sitting.

"I don't expect we'll be doing any show jumping any time soon," Cain replied as he examined the riggings that we were seated in however we initially saw no means of controlling the beast. I have no idea how but he did mange to figure out the controls for the crude turret in front of him and put it to use upon a group of PDF troopers that were attempting to join the fray. Though only a step above ork weaponry in terms of appearance, it operated quite effectively, unleashing a torrent of explosive shots into the squad of traitors. Though our guardsmen held their fire against the beast in order to avoid hitting us (or more likely, to avoid hitting Cain), the PDF had no qualms about opening fire on the creature that had been fighting for them seconds earlier. Whether it was a response to the lasfire, or by the direction of Cain's turret fire, the knarloc turned its rage against the PDF traitors and stomped its way over to their ranks. With neither the discipline nor the resolve of true guardsmen, the PDF troops broke rank when they realized the creature had turned against them (though why they should be so surprised is beyond me). A tank tried to hold its ground against the knarloc but its jaw clamped down onto its barrel, twisting it as though it were nothing more than a coat hanger. Using its head for a battering ram, it then proceeded to pound on the side of the tank until it overpowered it and knocked it onto its side. From there it started tearing at the vehicle's underbelly like it was an overstuffed grox, ripping off treads and plating as though they were entrails. It was all kind of amusing in a terrifying 'that could have been us' kind of way.

Of course, then came the obvious problem of what to do with our gigantic can opener now that the immediate threat had been eviscerated. The PDF were running like scared little juvies now that it seemed we were in control of the creature but I wouldn't have been surprised if our own troops did similar when it became obvious the beast was simply attacking whoever was close by.

"I think a lobotomy is in order," I suggested, which Cain was likely already thinking since he was drawing his chainsword as I spoke. First hacking off the turret in front of him so he wouldn't have to climb around it, Cain carefully made it way up the neck of the beast using the quills at the base of its head for leverage. A few times the knarloc tried to shake the commissar loose but to no avail and once Cain was in position, he drove his chainsword down with all his might. The beast let out a near-deafening roar of pain as blood, bone, and bits of pulped grey matter sprayed into the air like a sort of grotesque confetti. The creature snarled and thrashed about as though it were having a seizure, its movement erratic and jerky. Cain tried to keep a grip but the spastic flailing eventually flung the commissar off, though in hindsight he probably got off easy. I remained clinging for dear life upon the monster as it continued stomping about in a fatal stupor, chainsword still protruding from its skull. After slamming into a few rockrete walls, the knarloc finally ran out of steam and collapsed into a storage crate, crushing it beneath its massive girth and tossing me into the pile of twisted metal.

"Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time," I groaned to myself. From my spot beneath old boxes and pieces of scrap metal, I could see Cain staggering to the creature's head, pulling his chainsword free in a somewhat dramatic fashion just as guardsmen began to emerge from cover. Had I not witnessed it myself I would scarcely believe that Cain had bested such an opponent. It wouldn't take very long for rumours of Cain's triumph over the giant beast to circulate through all the regiments on the planet, though I don't recall ever hearing any mention of my participation in the event. From what I could gather, Cain had 'saved a helpless citizen' from the terrible creature. Without my coat and hat, I doubt anybody could have recognized me from a distance and with Cain's reputation as a hero it just seemed to make sense to people that I was merely some damsel in distress. I wasn't too bothered to be honest – it was probably better if people didn't know what really happened to me during the ordeal.

With Cain's triumph serving as a tremendous rallying call to the guardsmen, officers and soldiers began pushing even harder against the Tau adversaries. Only after the crowds had dispersed did Cain trudge his way over to the scrap pile I was within and began sifting through it.

"You in there Abel?"

"Down here," I groaned, pushing my hand through the debris for him to take.

"Fine work you did there," Cain complimented once he pulled me free. Honestly, I didn't see why he was complimenting me as I had served as little more than a decoy but I suppose in that respect I did do an admirable job. Of course, being a decoy is easy; it's surviving that's a challenge. Being a gentleman, or perhaps because I was battered and bruised at this point, Cain helped me back down to the rockrete where I promptly collapsed to my knees. With the adrenaline gone, exhaustion took over and I could barely even will myself to get back to my feet, which I think Cain understood as he didn't try to force me up. First battlesuits, then tanks, and now a knarloc…if this is what being a frontline commissar entailed well then I was definitely going to regret my career choice.

"Um…thanks for saving me," I spoke after a long silence, only then realizing that I hadn't thanked the commissar for saving my life.

"All in a day's work," he said modestly, which made me realize that it probably was for him. He had charged in without batting an eye when I was just about ready to fold up my tent and call it a life. If I wanted to be anything even remotely close to him, I had to stop accepting death when it seems to come along. My train of thought was interrupted when I felt something drop onto my head and realized that somebody had just placed my commissarial cap back into place. "Ah Jurgen, glad to see you're okay."

"My apologies commissar, I got a little separated when the tanks started firing," Cain's ever-dutiful aide replied. I thanked him for returning my hat, to which he suggested that I take better care not to lose it in the future. I thought he was being sarcastic at first but as I learned over the years the man appeared to be incapable of giving or receiving it. "Would you care for some tanna commissar?" he asked, taking a thermos from his webbing that I could swear wasn't there a few seconds ago.

"I would love some actually," Cain accepted graciously before turning to me. "Would you care for some as well?"

I stared blankly at the commissar for a few moments, trying to wrap my mind how he could remain so poised before I gave up and let the issue drop before it melted my brain. "Sure…why not?"

Somewhere Jurgen managed to produce a second mug and filled it for me and even though drinking was actually the furthest thing on my mind, I hoped the act alone would be enough to bring my senses back in order. Plus, all the rain and now missing my coat I was bloody cold and treasured the warmth the tanna brought. I was almost finished when somebody started calling for Cain over the vox.

"This is Major Currae of the Cadian 87th Armoured Regiment," he introduced himself. "Now when I heard that the famous Commissar Cain was coming to our aid I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I honestly thought the stories were all a bit over-the-top to be fair. After this, though, I can see why they give you the credit you so rightly deserve. I just have to thank you personally for such a spectacular job you've just done. Really, you've saved us all!"

"We what?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, I think we're not quite on the same page here," Cain added.

"Oh dear, I thought somebody would've told you already," the major apologized. "Well, if it hadn't been for your landing force touching down right on top of that Tau advance we would've have been caught completely off-guard here at the command centre. Thanks to you we were able to bring our guns to bear against the enemy before they could do any damage. Not to mention once they saw you taking down their horrid creature those PDF traitors all turned tail and ran for the hills! You may very well have saved the entire city."

Cain looked about as surprised as I was, though in hindsight I should have realized sooner that I had inadvertently directed Cain's transport to the parks located less than a block away from the PDF garrison that the Cadians had turned into a command centre. Since the major couldn't actually see our expression, Cain's carried on as though he had planned it the entire time.

"Well we knew that securing the command centre would be one of the main objectives for retaking the city, though we hadn't expected to cut it so close," Cain said, not exactly lying but not correcting the major on his inaccurate presumption. I probably would've done the same thing, to be honest.

"If you have a minute, perhaps you and the rest of the senior officers can join me and we can figure out how to kick the rest of these blasted xenos and heretics from our city."

"An excellent idea, what's your position?"

"Oh, about thirty feet to your left and ten feet straight up."

The major probably got a chuckle, standing at a balcony where he could watch as the two of us twisted our heads in the aforementioned direction and saw the Cadian officer waving to us. In all the confusion and 'strategically withdrawing' for our lives, I hadn't noticed that we had made our way right into the garrison's front yard. It would definitely explain why there were so many Cadians surrounding us now.

After Cain offered Jurgen's assistance in helping me back to my feet, I became all the more motivated to get up under my own strength. Even with the rain soaking everything I didn't want to take the chance of having to be in prolonged physical contact with the commissar's aide. I turned, momentarily, back to the corpse of the beast that Cain had fallen and wondered briefly if things were going to get better or worse from there on end.

I should've known better, though, that things had already gotten worse and I just didn't know it yet.


	9. NINE

**NINE**

When I met with Broklaw and several officers from the other regiments during a hastily-drawn meeting in the Cadian headquarters, I was still upbeat, optimistic and blissfully unaware of the disasters that were soon to unfold. I sat off to the side nursing myself back to a comfortable state, wrapped in a warm blanket and holding a fresh cup of recaf Broklaw had kindly provided me. Meanwhile the other officers discussed the situation on a holographic display of the city. I listened closely to what was being decided, but I was just too cold to give a damn about appearances, I was, for that brief time, comfortable and would have forgotten about the war raging outside were it not for the occasional detonation in the distance that rattled the overhanging luminators.

"Thanks to Cain's timely arrival and the defeat of the Tau sneak attack, we have reports of isolated units reconnecting with their companies," Currae explained, highlighting numerous green dots across the map. "I think it's safe to assume to that when you broke the back of the Tau advance the rest of the incursion began to lose their resolve. Forward units are reporting seeing Tau and PDF units pulling back to the outer districts in the city and a rear guard is forming along the main highway out of the city."

"What's more interesting is that we encountered a number of Tau units in transit while we cleared the western edges of the city," added Scheilt, the Kriegan regiment's executive officer. "I know the Valhallans might have said it as a hyperbole but it seems to me that the Tau were redirecting their troops to reinforce the Tau incursion at the garrison."

"That could have been their plan all along," an Adumbrian officer suggested. Not surprisingly, few agreed with the former PDF officer's assessment.

"Nay, if that had been the case we would have seen a coordinated offensive along the whole parameter," Scheilt explained, indicating how the garrison could have been attacked from all sides had the Tau desired. "Instead, we saw the initial offensive here with the Valhallan's unit and then, several minutes later, attacks from the south and north. Those units were redirected to help with the attack, most likely to break through the stall that the Valhallans created."

"Or maybe they just really wanted Cain dead," I joked from the back, confusing a few who didn't realize where the comment had come from until Broklaw pointed me out to them. I waved sheepishly, not expecting to get that much attention or to be taken seriously but when asked for further elaboration I figured I'd give the theory a go. "Well, it might have just been my limited perspective but they seemed to put a lot of effort into killing me. I mean, they fought all over the place and it might have been a coincidence but I was singled out in the initial shots when we landed, targeted intentionally by a Tau battlesuit, nearly pulverized by hammerheads despite leading a slightly smaller detachment compared to Broklaw's, who met far less resistance by the way, and Cain was chased by three battlesuits when we found him. Like I said, might have been a coincidence or maybe they just really have a hatred for commissars. We do kinda stand out after all."

Though I had worried I would receive the same sort of dismissal as the Adumbrian officer, the Kriegan executive officer and Cain both seemed to give my theory some serious thought. "The Tau do place great importance on those in leadership," Scheilt began, a pensive look upon his pale, weathered face. "They could be specifically targeting commissars and officers in order to break our resolve."

"I'm pretty sure most guardsmen won't lose resolve if their commissar bites it," Cain joked grimly, which got a chuckle from the Kriegans and myself being the only ones with a sense of humour dark enough to appreciate it. "But we are the most visible. If this is the case, we should alert the other commissars to be watchful for ambushes. Maybe even pull them from the front lines altogether."

"Good luck convincing Waffans of that," Scheilt said. "Speaking of which, Waffans, have you encountered any heavy resistance at your position?"

A vox unit had been set up so that we could maintain communication with the units in the city still pushing through the streets. Waffans, with his tank's high-grade sensory equipment, was able to provide valuable tactical data for us as well as give us a first-hand account of the situation. Even the best auspex couldn't paint the same picture as a seasoned officer with a vox.

"The only resistance I'm getting here is when I have to drive over their wrecked skimmers," Waffans said with a laugh before another thunderous roar drowned out his voice. I couldn't help but notice the elation in his tone - it's always important to have a job that is also your passion. "Seriously though, if they're trying to get my head I'm not noticing anything out of the ordinary. I mean, I am the biggest thing on the battlefield so I'm already attracting a lot of attention regardless. You should try asking those doofs with the Adumbrians; maybe they're getting some xeno love."

"We can hear you, you know," Wren's voice hissed over the vox.

"So how are the kids? Not causing you too much trouble I hope," Waffans replied, apathetic to Wren's venom.

"Well as much as I would hate to put holes in Commissar Abel's well-postulated theory, we have not encountered serious resistance during our purge of the xeno and heretical filth," Wren reported. "Scheilt may be correct in his assessment, though. We've dispatched several Tau vehicles that appeared to be redeploying their forces elsewhere."

"Bah, they're just running," Stimpsens' unmistakable voice cut in unaware of magnitude of the discussion he was interrupting. "We got these bluies licked and we're going to ride their butts all the way out of the city!"

"Settle down Commissar Stimpsen," Cain cautioned. "An enemy on the ropes will fight hard if you pursue them too closely. We're just here to drive them from the city, not annihilate them all. We can do that part once we've secured the city."

"We advised Colonel Trevek that only with utter annihilation will the enemies of the Emperor truly be defeated," Wren explained all too eagerly. "He agrees with us and we are pursuing the enemy at our discretion. Trevek and I will report back to you once we have cleansed the soil with their blood. Commissar Wren, out."

There was a brief moment of silence around the table with eyes glancing to each other, especially the Adumbrian officer, but with the colonel and the regimental commissars in agreement it would take the lord general's order to stop the advance and Zyvan's shuttle had only just departed and he'd be out of contact for a while. "Well, what's the worse that they could do?" I remarked.

"Aside from make a mess of things?" Currae replied. "Even if the Tau are pulling out completely if the Adumbrians get too far outside the city walls they could very well attract the attention of the Orks in the forest. The last thing we need is the Orks realizing that there's a big fight going on here."

It wasn't 'end of the world' but it could very well throw a huge wrench into our plans if the Orks decided to crash the party early. The walls were still unmanned and probably full of holes, our forces were scattered about the city with little organization, and the Catachans were still outside the walls engaged with the kroot in the forests. Speaking of which, we hadn't heard much from the Catachans during our meeting but Currae reassured us that they would only bother reporting in if things started going badly. It was agreed that the Adumbrians could run into trouble so Scheilt reluctantly offered to take what tanks he had in his service and reinforce their unit. I got the impression he was just tired of being cooped up inside a command bunker when he could be out doing what he came to the planet to do. At the moment I wasn't feeling too cavalier about returning to the field but I suppose if I had several inches of plasteel to take shelter behind I would feel more capable.

Currae suggested our next task to be to link up with the remaining isolated units within the city and then secure the parameter wall. With all the dense forestry surrounding the city, securing the walls was paramount in order to maintain security within the city. There was also the outer courtyard beyond the walls but those were merely a tertiary objective but would make our lives a whole lot easier. I was surprised to see such significant defences around a city on such an uninhabited planet but as Currae explained to me, the people of this world have had to deal with Eldar raiders, the occasional Ork mob, and your run-of-the-mill pirates since the beginning. It would certainly explain why the PDF forces, while still lacking training, discipline and equipment when compared to an Imperial Guard regiment, were putting up significant resistance. Hell, the PDF on Magnus Viridis were probably more competent than the Adumbrians, or at least their commanders were more sensible. The fact that the governor wasn't a moron didn't help matters either. I imagined purging the planetary capital would be far more difficult as the local defenders were former Cadians shock troopers. If they had managed to repel an Astartes assault as we had been led to believe, then we were going to be in for a heavy fight.

"Colonel Kasteen on route with the next convoy of chimeras," Broklaw informed Cain and me once the meeting had subsided. "She should be arriving in fifteen minutes. How are you two holding up?

"I haven't been this sore since my friend Andrea used me for martial arts practice," I groaned and took a hefty sip of my recaf. "I haven't been here for a day and I've nearly been blown up three or four times already and almost eaten by a giant reptile. I should have spent more time on the firing range…maybe read over a few more dissertations on Tau stratagem…"

"You're handling yourself just fine," Cain interrupted me before my train of thought could plummet into a death spiral for my confidence. I noticed he had a dataslate in hand and I was curious as to what he was reading over, though my curiosity would be sated quickly. "You kept the troops in order even during heavy assaults, coordinated tactical efforts…but I've been reading over some of the reports and, well, to be frank what happened in the courtyard was an extremely reckless maneuver. I thought I instructed you to remain with Sulla so we wouldn't have these kinds of tactics."

"Actually Commissar Cain…the maneuver was my idea," I admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. What Cain would think of my choice of tactics hadn't crossed my mind when I thought them up but I had reached the conclusion that Cain would probably be more troubled if I went with any of the alternatives, most of which would've got a lot of the company killed. The realization of Cain's disappointment in me was a little…disconcerting at first but I realized he was merely keeping focus on the bigger picture. It had been a desperate gamble and desperate gambles were not what we needed so early on in the campaign when so much was still at stake. It may have succeeded but it left the company without any tanks and if were there had been more hammerheads in the area there was a good bet that Sulla's whole company would have been wiped out. However, at the time I had weighed those risks and benefits and thought I had taken the best course of action considering intel that was available. Still, there was a reason why my tutors at the schola gave me such poor grades in almost all my combat and tactical disciplines.

"I thought you would know better than this Commissar Abel," Cain said sternly. "You have to keep a unit's combat effectiveness in perspective at all times. Throwing soldiers and ordinance away in desperate gambits should be avoided whenever possible." From what I've learned, Cain isn't the type to really chew people out, though being a fellow commissar I suppose my relationship with him is rather unique compared to the others. Technically, he could only ever advise me as we on equal grounds in terms of authority. Most other commissars wouldn't take flak like that from a colleague or at the very least would quickly move to the defence. Cain, in his ever-perceptive ways, though, probably knew that I wouldn't fight back. In our fledging and unofficial 'student and mentor' role, I had quickly grown to look to him as I would any of my tutors at the schola; a sort of father figure that I never really had in life. In a way, working with Cain on Viridis just reminded me that I was still very much a cadet in comparison to him.

Well, maybe that was taking it a bit far, especially for how early we were in our professional relationship at the time. I was definitely more impressionable back then and more flexible to Cain's advice and, like any student, felt badly when I failed to live up his expectations. Though he had a valid point, I still reconciled with myself with the belief that he likely would have done similar were he in my situation. Despite what Cain said, I still felt that achieving our objectives was more important than making sure everybody arrived home safely. Casualties were inevitable in a war and while I would occasionally lament the loss of a valued colleague or friend, like any Kriegan I accepted death as a part of our service to the Emperor. Cain's concern for the well being of the troops he served with could have been a liability were it not for the fact that he was so willing to take on the burden himself. Did Cain care about the troops because he acted so selflessly or was it the other way around? I wasn't sure I could ever think like him but, in the end, being myself has probably served me better than trying to be a second version of Cain.

"Perhaps I should keep a closer eye on you," he continued after letting out a quiet, disappointed sigh. He likely would have kept on talking were it not for Major Currae calling for his attention. Cain promptly excused himself, leaving me to my thoughts and Broklaw's lingering presence.

"If it's any consolation I would've done the same," Broklaw said, pulling up a chair and taking a seat next to me. "I think Cain's just a little on the stressed side. He's more used to getting into the thick of things, which is hard given that the Tau like to hang back and let their heavy weapons do the fighting."

"Know the feeling," I groaned. Save for a few instances, I had generally felt rather useless during a lot of the firefights. The Tau soldiers simply fought from too far back and my laspistol was proving to be nothing more than a fancy laser pointer. Perhaps that was why I was looking forward to dealing with the Orks more than I was with the Tau. Orks were at least stupid enough to stand out in the open and let you shoot them and so long as you had solid aim and enough shots you could survive the firefight. Once we were done in Vertens I could leave the Tau and their damnable war machines to Waffans and the rest of the tank boys.

"There's a bunch of cots in the back if you need to take a rest, you look like a mess," he suggested, which I was half-tempted to take him up on. I was tired, aching, and even after having dried myself off with a towel I felt water-logged. However, Cain's little remarks had wounded my pride and while my first instinct was to retreat to a cot and sleep them off, instead I opted to redouble my efforts and prove I could handle front line combat.

"Frak that," I replied. "I'm getting a coat and I'm hopping on that next convoy."

Technically, I shouldn't have even considered going out into a war without a proper uniform but I wasn't going to sit and wait for half an hour for my kit bag to be unloaded from the transport to get a spare. Uniform dress codes could wait until after the shooting stopped. Besides, it wasn't as if Cain was going to report me to the Commissariat. Thankfully, the Cadians had a slightly used commissarial greatcoat that wasn't going to be put to any use so I gave it a second chance to serve the Emperor. It was a little on the big side and there were a few holes in it but at least the blood had been washed out and I could barely smell the plasma scorching anymore.

Broklaw didn't bother trying to talk me out of it. I was a stubborn woman and when I had my mind set on something it usually took a power fist to the head to change my mind. Cain was a little surprised when he saw me getting my gear together. If he thought I was going to get to ride out the battle in the command bunker he had another thing coming, I would show him that I could be just as eager to get back into the fight as he was. While we waited for the next convoy, I quickly wolfed down another ration bar as well an extra cup of recaf and listened to the vox network for any new developments. Cain and his aide went to ready their personal chariot, a salamander scout. I would be lying if I didn't say I wasn't envious that Cain got his own personal salamander but I suppose with a reputation like his it shouldn't be a surprise. Actually, what was a surprise is that it's only a salamander scout and not something more fitting a hero of his stature.

Perhaps he was just too attached to the model. Emperor knows I share the same sentiments to the vehicle I spent most of my career being ferried around in. When I heard it was being decommissioned I had to bribe and blackmail a large part of the Munitorium just to save it from the recycling center. It still sits in the communal garage, a bit rustic compared to the other vehicles but it still runs as well as the day I first hopped in. Spike always knew how to take care of a vehicle but I think I'm getting ahead of myself here.

When you're waiting for your ride back into the warzone, times moves in a manner opposite to how you want it to. So in my case every minute dragged on as though it clung to existence with all its might. Most of the reports that trickled over the vox network were unimportant, at least to me they were; various status reports, coordinates for air support (though there was very little of that available still), requests for medical transports, and other traffic that painted a very disorientating picture of the battlefield. Cain always advocated keeping an ear on the vox traffic for pertinent information but with all the messages being sent across one of a dozen vox channels, I was at a loss how he could ever keep on top of everything. The only reason I was able to pick out information about the troublesome Adumbrian regiment was because I could easily recognize Waffans' voice. He seemed to be griping about something the Adumbrians had just done, which was no doubt done under the misguided advice of Wren and Stimpsen.

Damn overzealous rookies the whole lot of them.

"Waffans, I need you to take your unit and reinforce the Adumbrians before they get their asses handed to them," instructed the Kriegan colonel, whose working relation with Waffans must have been quite close for him to so casually order a commissar around. Of course, the trust between them had to be strong for the colonel to allow Waffans to have command of the largest tank in the regiment. "If you can, try and stop them from leaving the city walls. We just need to push the enemies from the city."

"I say we just let them die," Waffans muttered indignantly, clearly not pleased being relegated to the role of baby-sitter to the junior regiment. It was understandable, since Wren and Stimpsen would likely see this intervention as an insult, as would Trevek.

"As lovely as an option that would be, our forces are stretched thin enough as they are so we need them alive, or at least as many of them as you can manage. If you need to knock a few heads by all means do it." Friction between regiments was common on any campaign and I recall Cain later told me of frictions between the Valhallans and the Tallarns during the Adumbrian campaign. In almost every case, the result is something bad if it's left to fester and in our case, it would prove to be disastrous.

Waffans acknowledged with "I'll wedge the Lament into the main gate if I have too,". Colonel Vismarck, the Kriegan CO, spoke briefly with Broklaw and informed him that a new rally point would have to be established in the still all-too-likely event that the Adumbrians chased the Tau outside the city in their over-zealous charge. Instead of meeting up with Waffans in the city and pushing outwards, we were going to proceed on our own through the city and rendezvous with the tank regiment at the gates. If all went smoothly, the enemy should be gone from the city by the time our regiments joined up and we would be able to call it a day. Should the Adumbrians make a mess of things then we would be in a position to support them. That was the plan, at least. We were all aware that no plan survives first contact with the enemy. But with this campaign that old adage would become our theme song.

I spent a few more minutes listening to Waffans on his motivational vox caster, spouting inspiring retorts and various horrific (and often anatomically impossible) threats to the enemies still within earshot. I found the threats more inspiring than they should have been but as a close friend of mine has often espoused, violence solves everything. Of course, if all you have is a bolter then all of life's problems start to have bulls-eyes painted on them. Eventually, though, I had to pull myself away from the comfort of the command center and join the rest of the Valhallans in the armoured convoy. On the way out, I bumped into Colonel Kasteen who seemed all-too-eager to be out of the rain with a temperament that reminded me of a soaked feline. She managed to slip me a small congratulatory remark as we passed in the corridor – apparently she thought my choice of tactics in the starport was well thought out so I had the personal satisfaction of knowing both commanders agreed with me. Though normally I would've opted for the shelter of a chimera to ride through town in, Cain seemed insistent that I join him in his salamander. Maybe he just wanted me to suffer through the rain like him but I think it was just to keep a better eye on me so I wouldn't run off and try to play hero again (not that I ever really intend to).

With Jurgen in the driver's seat, Cain behind his favourite pintle-mounted heavy bolter, and I trying to take what shelter I could from the rain, which happened to be coming in sideways at that point of the day, the salamander drove off to join the rest of the Valhallans. Cain mentioned something about keeping a hold of something firm but I didn't quite catch it as Jurgen's driving style caught me by surprise and drove me forehead into a side panel. Thankfully, hard surfaces are good teachers and I adjusted accordingly to Jurgen's tendencies to drive vehicles as though we were being bombarded by artillery.

"You've fought alongside the Adumbrians before; do you think they'll start being a liability?" I asked as I tried to make conversation to pass the time. His immediate answer was an uncertain shrug of the shoulders, which offered some comfort in knowing that Cain was as uncertain as I was. In the back of my mind, I hoped I hadn't pushed them too hard when I first spoke with the regiment, prompting them to take excessive risks as if to prove themselves. Then again, I couldn't quite fault them for that since I was guilty of taking excessive risks too.

"I have complete confidence in the decisions of Segmentum command and the Administratum," Cain replied as though reciting something from the side of a disposable recaf cup.

"That's all well and good but they're not here." It was a decent deflection and a mere guardsman or officer would have been satisfied with it but as a fellow commissar I had more headway with Cain so I could press further. The avoidance of truth could often be just as telling so while it wasn't necessary for me to continue, I wanted to see how honest he would be with me.

As I expected (and had hoped against), he took a moment to answer, once again mulling over his choice of words as though this were some delicate procedure. "I had hoped their exuberance would compensate for their lack of experience. Unfortunately, that may be the problem in this case." In hindsight, he might have said that purely to put my mind at ease as I shared those sentiments. It would not have been beyond his ability to predict exactly what I had hoped or needed to hear. In my youthful ignorance, though, I had merely accepted his words as truth. He could very well have had those sentiments but looking back I suspect his impressions were far grimmer than mine.

With the rain sweeping across my face, I kept my head turned towards the left side of the salamander where I at least didn't have to keep wiping my optical lens every five seconds. After a cursory glance to my surroundings, I was pleased to note that much of the city was still standing despite everybody's best efforts to the contrary. If the civilian population weren't completely displaced I could, perhaps, find a nice drinking establishment to wash away my trio of near-death experiences. I noticed Cain was keeping his head on a swivel too, looking to every ledge and alleyway that could house potential attackers and even some that could only have been used by the most desperate and determined of ambushers (but I suppose a man does not survive for as long as he has by being complacent). Though the streets were quiet, relatively speaking, I could not shake the feeling that we were being watched; a feeling reinforced when Cain nudged me to warn me to be extra alert for ambushers. I've learned over many, many occasions that any time Cain felt on edge was cause for concern.

Shortly after Cain's warning, I spotted something and shouted along with a point of my finger, "Stealthsuits! Left balcony, up high!"

Were it a clear, amicable, and sunny day I would never had even noticed the bastards but with the heavy wind and rain the Tau stealth fields were just barely visible. I probably would not have noticed them were it not for the added acuity of my biotic eye, which could more clearly see the space devoid of rain drops. In my haste, I forgot to send the message across the vox channel but there was little need to explain ourselves when Cain opened fire with the heavy bolters, tearing apart a large section of an apartment building balcony and raining bits of armour and Tau upon our convoy. Though I only saw the one group of ambushers, when Cain pulped them with his heavy bolter the rest must have assumed they were spotted and Tau soldiers began appearing in the windows overhead. This was exactly why everybody hated urban warfare and why I was quickly regretting my choice to ride in the only open-top vehicle in the entire convoy.

Cain began carving crevices through the buildings, keeping the Tau sharpshooters suppressed, which was necessary since we were the most exposed targets. Peculiar splashes in the puddles along the sidewalk alerted me to additional stealthsuits and I picked off a few with my laspistol just to let them know that their stealth fields weren't very effective in the rain. However, there were too many stealthsuits for me to keep track of and heavy weapons fire struck the opposite side of the salamander. Our capable, and somewhat erratic, driver veered the vehicle hard to the left to avoid another large energy bolt and managed to plow through a stealthsuit that I had failed to notice. Unfortunately, when the front end of the salamander went through its helmet its gun went off one last time, firing some strange blue bolt, much smaller than most of the others directed at us. Whatever it was, though, it stopped the salamander dead in its tracks without even so much as a hole in the armour and inertia carried the vehicle into the corner of a building.

"Jurgen, what the frak is wrong?" Cain shouted as his heavy bolter fell silent along with the rest of the vehicle.

"All the systems appear to be dead commissar," Jurgen answered in a tone surprisingly calm (or oblivious) despite our increasingly dire situation.

"Bail!" Cain stated the obvious. His words came just in time as more stealthsuits took advantage of our immobility and fired a volley of powerful energy bolts. We had just barely cleared the side armour when the shots melted holes through our vehicle as though it were made of wax. Due to our vehicle's final resting spot and our hasty exit, the three of us landed in the alley next to the salamander. Though staying with the convoy would have been ideal, enemy fire from down the street forced us into the alleyway.

"Cain, are you there?" a concerned officer called out over the vox.

"We're fine but we've had to bail from our vehicle. Get over here and pick us up!"

"We're trying to commissar but the Tau are coming up hard behind us. Cut through the alley, we'll send a chimera around to meet you."

Not the most reassuring of plans but when a Tau soldier appeared in the alleyway entrance behind us we realized staying put was a bad idea. Running from an enemy never sits well with me but with no cover and likely more enemies to come, I was willing to put pride aside and leg it. Having the shortest legs of the lot, I wound up lagging behind and it was left to me to take pot shots at our pursuers, which, with our ongoing run of luck, happened to include a few kroot. As we reached a fork in the alleyway, Cain and Jurgen continued on forward while I made the foolish move of trying to take another shot at our pursuers. Foolish it may have been but it may have also been what kept me alive as I noticed a Tau soldier lining up his plasma rifle. Instincts kicked in and I dove into the side alley just as plasma bolts whipped past me. I thought for certain that this mistake would cost me dearly as the kroot should have been able to overtake me easily. But in a surprising move the kroot continued straight past me as though they were snubbing my very existence. I didn't believe what I saw at first until I poked my head out of the side alley and saw the kroot moving down the main alleyway. Were it not for a few Tau stragglers, though, I would continued after the kroot but a few plasma bolts forced me to duck back into the side alley and several more bolts aimed my way encouraged me to follow it wherever it may lead.

"Abel, where are you?" Cain called over the vox when he realized I wasn't following anymore.

"I had to take a detour. Just keep going Cain, I'll catch up with you later," I insisted as I continued on my way. I knew plasma rifles had long range so I kept running as fast as my legs would carry me. I half-expected to catch a bolt in the back but nothing ever came and by the time I realized I wasn't being pursued I had stumbled back into the city streets. Wherever it was that I wound up, it was a lot quieter than the alley I had fled from. I now found myself surrounded by the scorched remains of several chimeras and Tau vehicles, along with the remains of soldiers from both sides. Judging by the uniforms of the Imperial soldiers they belonged to the Cadian regiment.

For a brief moment, I thought I was alone but then I heard a loud, distinct, and very close thud that could only have come from something large and bipedal. I prayed to the Emperor to that it was simply a sentinel but I would have no such luck as I turned about and discovered I had stumbled right out in front of a Tau battlesuit. This one was markedly different from the others I had encountered as it was far bulkier, had a powerful railgun slung under each forearm, and a missile pod upon each shoulder. Whether it got isolated from the rest of its unit or was the sole survivor of the skirmish I had wandered into I was unsure. But one thing I did know for certain was that it had spotted me as it levelled a railgun towards me. For a brief moment I figured that this was to be my end - splattered into an unrecognizable paste by the might of Tau weaponry - but then I remembered that I had told myself to stop accepting death so readily. It might be for nought but I was intent on remaining defiant to the end. I drew both laspistols and started firing at the only spot where I thought I stood even a slight chance of causing damage – the head. Laser bolts pelted its face and optical lenses and I was rewarded with a crack as its largest optical lens shattered from a direct hit.

It may not have been a lethal hit but it appeared to blind the battlesuit as its railgun fired off-course and sent a shot into the road. It carved a trench through the rockrete, forcing me to jump out of the way as it tore apart the ground where I once stood. I was so overcome with joy that I could've jumped up and down screaming in delight and would've were it not for the possibility that another stray shot could quickly end my victory cheer. Instead, I merely lamented the fact that there wasn't anybody around to actually see this and I doubt anybody would believe me if I told them. Its guns swung erratically from side to side, trying desperately to reacquire a target and while I could have fled from the machine I was intent on bringing it down; if Cain could topple a knarloc I figured I had it in me to down a battlesuit – I simply needed something to crack the armour.

Quickly searching the dead soldiers for some sign of a fallen anti-tank weapon, I eventually spotted a dropped krak grenade resting against the curb. Scrambling over to recover the weapon, I was just about ready to prime the grenade when I heard the sound of a rocket launch. For an instant, I thought the battlesuit had given into desperation and was firing its whole salvo off in hopes of hitting me; instead, though, a rocket screamed in from the opposite direction and struck the battlesuit dead center, blasting a hole through the frontal armour. Then an armoured vehicle sped past me, firing heavy machine guns off before ramming the battlesuit and sending its ruined remains crashing into the rockrete.

After all the damn effort I went through to try and kill the thing myself!

I didn't let my aggravation show, though, and instead took some calming breaths while I pocketed the krak grenade for later use. It took me a moment to realize that the armoured vehicle that had come to my rescue was not a chimera but was, in fact, significantly smaller. It was a centaur light carrier, a vehicle used almost exclusively by the Kriegans for towing around small squads of soldiers and heavy artillery. This one in particular was an assault carrier variant as it had a second heavy stubber mounted in the passenger's seat. One person was standing in the open-top rear half holding a smoking rocket launcher over his shoulder, though I could hear him and the other occupants cheering their victory, which should have been my victory.

The vehicle slowly reversed course until it stopped in front of me and, as I expected, a masked Kriegan looked down to me with a salute. He didn't say anything at first but I got the suspicion he was surprised at something he saw. Suddenly he turned to the unseen occupants riding with him.

"That is not Commissar Cain," he said incredulously.

"What do you mean?" a second voice replied and a head poked up from under the armoured canopy over the driver's seat. He then repeated the obvious, "That is not Commissar Cain at all."

"Impossible, I heard it on the vox!" the final voice said and a third masked figure emerged, this time from under the canopy of the passenger gunner. He, too, joined in staring in disbelief at me, as if somehow the first guy had been mistaken in his original assessment. "You are not Commissar Cain."

Man, nothing slipped past these guys.

"Dummkopf!" the driver shouted angrily, smacking the passenger trooper upon the helmet. "You said we were heading for Commissar Cain's position! You said we would be heroes if we rescued him! I should never have listened to you!"

"You heard the same transmissions as I did," the passenger said in his defence, "so don't blame me, blame the guy who said he saw the commissar and told us to turn this way!"

They must have been referring to the one standing in the back as he suddenly got defensive. "I do not know what the Commissar looks like. You said keep an eye out and I said 'there is a commissar' and you turned. I never once said that it was Cain!"

"Then you are both idiots!" shouted the driver, this time smacking the standing trooper sharply on the shin. "Now look at the mess you have made!"

"Hey, we still saved his life," the standing trooper replied, pointing towards me.

"Her," I corrected. Though I shouldn't have been surprised, this silenced all three of them and they stared at me once more. I suspected they were pondering just how grateful I was for my rescue, which as you can guess would be not at all. "Now are you three quite done bickering yet?"

"My apologies," the driver answered, whom I assumed to be the ranking soldier. "It's just the idiocy of these two doltheads is staggering at times. It will not happen again commissar…?"

"Abel, attached to the 597th Valhallans."

"Oh, that means you do know Cain," the passenger interrupted with great zeal. "Ha, that means we are in the right area. He might still be nearby!"

Though I did not like their singular-minded dedication, I wasn't going to let that enthusiasm go unexploited. Since I didn't really need to ask, I motioned for one to open the back door for me and I climbed aboard. Though much smaller than a chimera, there was enough room in the back, open-top area of the vehicle to seat about four soldiers and their gear, not to mention it sported a heavy stubber. I hadn't ridden in a centaur since I was a child so climbing aboard was a bit nostalgic. "You're damn right he's close by and we're going to help him out so for the time being you boys are sticking with me, understood?"

"Yes commissar!" chimed all three. I was relieved to see how quickly the three of them snapped back into their duty as guardsmen, confirming my suspicion that their bickering was the result of a casual familiarity rather than actual friction between them.

"Good, now take us that way," I ordered and the centaur took off down the road. After realizing I didn't know any of the names of the soldiers around me and always wanting a better means of calling out to people other than using 'hey you,' I quickly asked for introductions. Between the heavy coats and gas masks, it was difficult for anybody to tell one Kriegan from the next, even for a fellow Kriegan and it didn't help that all three of them were roughly the same build and height.

"Corporal Watz," said the driver. "To my left is Trooper Heilmit and beside you is Trooper Gustav."

Centaurs might not be very big or imposing but they were definitely fast little machines when they weren't weighed down by several hundred pounds of artillery. Though I didn't realize it at first, only a few moments down the road did the question strike me and I asked about the overheard transmission they mentioned earlier. They explained that Cain sent out a general call for assistance, which they had picked up with their centaur's enhanced vox caster (which was a 'gift' from an unnamed techpriest who owed the driver far too many favours and debts). I wondered if that addition was authorized or even sanctified but judging by the other amenities that the centaur sported, I got the feeling that Watz, like many Kriegans, worried less about the methods and more about the end results. It would definitely explain the makeshift cup holders crudely bolted onto the control console.

"So you actually work alongside Commissar Cain?" Gustav asked as we raced down the road. There are many days I'm still glad that I never gained the sort of notoriety that Cain did because I wouldn't have been able to put up with so much admiration from people who were otherwise complete strangers. In fact, I was certain Cain would be annoyed at me for bringing these people near him, though he might be more forgiving if they did prove to be crucial to our survival. Part of me suspected we would find Cain already safely aboard a chimera and all our efforts wasted for nothing. Actually, I wouldn't have been disappointed in the least and actually more relieved but Watz would likely have a fit on his fellow troopers, which would probably be a little comical.

By the Emperor I miss those guys…

"I'm getting something on the vox," Heilmit said, pressing the ear of a headphone to the side of his head. "I think it's another call from the commissar. The signal is strong, take the next left!"

Either it was a running trait in drivers or Watz just so happened to be just as insane a driver as Jurgen, pitching the centaur into a lateral slide as we reached the corner. The street was chewed apart beneath the armoured carrier as he hit the throttle, tossing me against the backdoor as we took off. This time, Heilmit's directions proved accurate as we spotted the commissar a few blocks down the street, pinned inside a storefront with Tau soldiers barraging his position with their plasma rifles. If Watz and the others wanted glory I wasn't about to stand in their way.

"Lock and load my friends – victory or death!" Watz' battle cry was echoed by his comrades as the centaur accelerated and both heavy stubbers began spitting death at the Tau. It might not have added much but I joined in with my laspistol, putting a few holes through some Tau before our stubbers' heavy slugs splattered them. Primitive though a heavy stubber may be, it still had a devastating effect against infantry. The hurried counter-attack, though, proved to be astonishingly accurate as I was forced to duck below plasma bolts that whipped over the armoured canopy. Gustav didn't seem dissuaded, simply yelling angrily as his heavy subber drowned out any chance of coherency from him. Unfortunately, between Tau accuracy and Gustav's refusal to yield to anyone or anything, the plasma weapons won out and Gustav took a solid hit in the upper chest that blew out most of his thorax. Even in the wet rain plasma-scorched flesh smelled awful but I had no choice but to push his lifeless body to the side and take his position behind the heavy stubber. I was reminded quickly why I had never bothered with a bolt pistol despite being more than used to carrying around a heavy pistol – the recoil on slug-throwers hurt! It didn't help that the heavy stubber had a cheap wooden stock that did nothing but put all that recoil into my shoulder. Perhaps if I had more meat on my bones it wouldn't have hurt so much but by the time Watz screeched the centaur to a halt amidst a pile of dead Tau, my shoulder was ready to hop right out of its socket and call it quits.

"Now that is how you kill xenos, am I right?" Watz said triumphantly as he looked to the back of the centaur and finally realized there was one less living occupant. "Well shit. That is going to take hours to clean out." Were they from any other planet I would have been surprised at their callousness but they were Kriegans and death was about as nonchalant for them as the morning's weather (which was always smoggy with a chance of noxious fumes when you lived on Krieg).

"Abel? Is that you?" Cain asked rhetorically as he emerged from the shop's remains. "You're getting better at these well-timed interventions."

"Would have been here sooner but I sort of ran into a battlesuit," I said, trying to pull my own little modest routine with a dismissive tone. He would probably have been thoroughly impressed were it not for the interruption of the one of the troopers behind me.

"Almost had her until Gustav here blasted it with a krak rocket," Heilmit said enthusiastically, hoisting up Gustav's lifeless figure for Cain to see. He then proceeded to unceremoniously dump the body over the side of the centaur with a remark of 'no free rides.'

"Was that really necessary?" Cain asked, probably a bit surprised at the callous disregard for the remains of a fallen guardsmen.

"There won't be much room for you and your associate with him clogging up space," Heilmit explained.

"And he's leaking all over the floor," Watz added. "Besides, the guy was a total asshole; all the clones from his stock are assholes. They keep him because he won't back down when the enemies start shooting not because we enjoy his company." The Death Korps of Krieg, unlike any other regiments in the Imperium, regularly employ clones to fill their ranks of troopers; otherwise the thinned population of Krieg wouldn't have been able to fill more than a few regiments every generation. It doesn't exactly help build a sense of unity and brotherhood amongst the troops but Kriegans rarely need it – just their duty and an enemy to kill.

"True but even still that's hardly a fitting way to dispose of the remains of a servant of the Imperium," Cain argued calmly. I suspected he wasn't too concerned with the dead man but he wasn't going to yield the argument to a mere trooper.

"I suppose you're right," Heilmit said as he glanced over the wall at Gustav's remains. "I should have checked his pockets first." He then hopped over the side and began rifling through the many pockets and pouches on the guardsman's uniform. That was probably as close to an agreement as Cain would get from the man so he let the issue go.

"Well if we're going to be searching through pockets then I'm going to see if I can find one of those Tau knives," Watz announced, climbing out of the centaur and hurrying over to the remains of our enemies. It was trudging a bit close to the lines of blasphemy but I figured a simple knife didn't really count as technosorcery and since Cain didn't seem to object neither did I.

"Interesting people these Kriegans," Cain commented as he watched Watz for a moment. "Did you find that attack on the convoy rather strange?"

"What do you mean?" I asked. I never got a chance to get a full grasp of the situation since I was partly distracted with staying alive and killing my enemies but that level of awareness of one of the many things that separated the experienced commissar from me and my lack thereof.

"Well when you want to ambush a tightly-packed convoy in a relatively narrow street, you want to take out a vehicle of sufficient size first so you can box in the rest behind its wreck. They didn't, though, they attacked our smaller vehicle first and there were several larger vehicles in the front. Strategically, it doesn't make sense and I won't be so arrogant as to think the Tau are incapable of such basic stratagem." Now that he pointed it out to me, it did strike me as a bit peculiar, though one could possibly attribute their choice of target to the vehicle's greater vulnerability and also because we were the first to open fire.

"They did seem rather determined to kill us," I nodded in agreement. "However, they pretty much ignored me when we got separated."

"It's almost like their trying to kill me specifically. It would explain why you personally encountered so much resistance at the starport – they might have thought you were, in fact, me."

"Now you're starting to sound paranoid," I said sceptically. "The Tau couldn't have known you were coming, let alone hunt you down. I doubt even any of them would know what you looked like."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Watz suddenly interrupted, approaching us carrying the prized knife in one hand and a strange Tau device in the other. It was a small, disc-like object that just fit into the palm of his hand with a rounded surface that had a glass dimple in the center and visible buttons surrounding the center. "I found this on the same xeno I borrowed the knife from," he explained as he tapped a button. The device lit up and suddenly a small holographic imagine appeared above the center – a remarkable sharp, clear image that surprised Cain and I as most holographic displays we had seen were huge, static-ridden, and woefully unreliable. What amazed us the most, though, was that hovering above the center, made entirely of shimmering blue light, was a perfect likeness of Commissar Cain. Watz clicked a second button and a map of the starport took Cain's place and I noticed that the bright dot corresponded to the same landing pad that my transport had used.

"Looks like you aren't paranoid…they really are trying to kill you."

"Worse than that," Cain said grimly, "it means that somebody is providing information to the Tau. We've got a spy in our midst."


	10. TEN

**TEN**

Whether it was from a keen perception or merely an over-active sense of paranoia, Cain's assessment of our new development seemed very reasonable and very disconcerting. The prospect of a traitor was not something we needed at the moment, as everybody made aware of this fact would spend the rest of the campaign looking over their shoulder. Now it couldn't have been anybody from our landing parties because there would not have been any time or means to send a covert message ahead of the fleet to warn the Tau in time, so chances were it was somebody in the fleet or one of the original three regiments. Since the likelihood of a mere trooper knowing how to send covert messages and having access to the necessary data seemed slim at best, chances were we were dealing with an officer or a specialized vox operator, which, thanks to the Tau and Kroot, were fewer in number at this point. There was a chance our traitor might have been killed in the fighting since our arrival but I wasn't willing to put any money on that – he or she would have found a nice, safe place to hide and wait out the storm.

Unfortunately, since nobody in our party knew how to read any of the xeno's text, all we had were a handful of pictures to go on. Though we were needed back in the convoy to help continue pushing the enemies from the city, Cain insisted that we find a means to get the information back to the command center. There was, however, the risk of inadvertently alerting the spy that we were on to him, which could cause further complications. I suggested we first transmit the data to our own regiments, whom we knew we could trust with the data and then further action could be decided by those with the wisdom and authority to make them. However, that meant we couldn't double-back to the command center, which given the day I was having, my preferred choice. Watz suggested heading straight for the Traitor's Lament, which had the necessary equipment to make such a sensitive transmission. Since we saw no viable alternative, we continued forward on the centaur.

In the meantime, Cain raised Colonel Kasteen on the vox to report the situation. Though disappointed with the troubling news, she didn't seem all too surprised. Apparently when dealing with a war against the Tau, one had to always expect the possibility of your own ranks turning against you.

"Are you sure this means there's a spy?" Kasteen asked in hopes that Cain may just be overreacting.

"Not likely, maybe they got my picture from the propaganda posters but there's a very nice picture of you and the major on this thing as well," Cain reported, clicking on the various buttons that brought up different images including the ones he mentioned. There didn't appear to be any pictures of me, which was actually both a little disappointing and a bit of a relief. The Tau must have thought I wasn't a big enough threat to warrant putting any extra effort into killing. Well, I planned to make them regret that decision. "There's a lot of information here as well, which I would be willing to bet money on pertains to our regiment's strength and layout. I recommend you start discretely looking into all the senior staff of the Cadians and the Catachans, as well as all the guardsmen who have been working as vox operators today. We should also exercise caution over the vox…we have no idea how much information this guy is feeding to the Tau."

"I'll get people working on it right away and I'll see about finding a translator with a sense of discretion," the colonel acknowledged and left us to our work.

"What do the Tau think they will accomplish by killing you?" Heilmit asked. "I know you are a hero and everything but do they really think this whole war will just stop the moment you die?"

"They could very well," Cain answered, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "The death of a high-ranking Tau has been known to make their armies fall into disorder. They could easily be trying to apply the same strategy with me. That or they think I'll personally interfere with something."

"Well then, by the Golden Throne I swear I shall not let the Tau lay one wretched finger upon you!" Were they soldiers from any other world I might have had doubts about the veracity of such a pledge but I knew that for a Kriegan such words held as much weight as a baneblade. I had no doubt that Heilmit would throw himself in front of a battlesuit if it meant keeping Cain alive and, though it might seem selfish, I wasn't about to let his willingness to protect us go un-exploited.

"Your enthusiasm is quite appreciated but I would not feel right depriving your regiment of your valuable services," Cain modestly replied, which only further whipped Heilmit into an over-eager putty. At this point, he probably would've jumped into an Ork mob if Cain so much as hinted. It never ceased to amaze me how Cain could get the even the simplest of men to practically eat out of the palm of his hand…and it always made me wonder just how often he did that to me. Of course, part of being a hero and a leader is that ability to convince people yours is the best option and doing it without threatening the other person with death just added to his reputation.

"I wonder why Commissar Waffans is not on the Tau's hit list," Watz wondered out loud. "He commands the Traitor's Lament, after all. If anybody's death would be considered a blow to our campaign, it would be his."

"The Tau's concern would be on the tank, not the commander, and it's not too hard to find a tank that's the size of a house," Cain explained. Unlike the commissar, finding the Traitor's Lament would be easy, though what the Tau hoped to field in order to counter the stormblade was a mystery to me. I suspected, and no doubt Cain did too, that if the Tau were aware of his participation and had planned for accordingly, then there were going to be plans in place for dealing with the stormblade. Naively, I figured whatever was planned would be handled accordingly by those in command and, most likely, a few well-placed plasma blasts.

I voxed ahead and alerted Waffans to our approach and were carrying an important package. Though he seemed reluctant to halt his advance, he trusted me enough when I said that it was top priority. We caught up to him about eight blocks from the main gate, waiting patiently as he had said with the Lament placed at the center of a concave formation of battletanks facing towards the gate. About a half-dozen Leman Ruses and other heavy battle tanks were waiting alongside the Lament but we could see the rest of the regiment continuing to push up ahead. There was no sign of the Valhallans, which meant our allies were getting more bogged down than we hand anticipated, which puzzled me why such a large contingent of enemy forces were still inside the city when so many seemed to be retreating. When Cain voxed the convoy's CO he got a general reassurance that progress was being made but it was a conversation cut short as the CO had to 'get back to killing bluies.'

"I was wondering where you bunch had wondered off to," Waffans said in greeting as our centaur parked alongside the Lament, the sheer size discrepancy staggering to behold. "I thought you knew better than this corporal. I should have you shot for running off like that." Apparently Watz's little detour might have been in dereliction to current orders, which was an infraction that Waffans would normally employ a very swift execution for.

"But I would highly recommend against it," Cain spoke up on Watz's behalf. "Without the initiative and valour of these two men, as well as that of Trooper…uh…"

"Gustav," I whispered into his ear.

"Right; as well as that of Trooper Gustav," Cain continued, "Commissar Abel and I might not be standing here today. I would, in fact, like to put their names forward for an accommodation for their selflessness." Though I could certainly attest that I would have faired quite sufficiently on my own I wasn't about to interrupt and take away the glory the two troopers had striven so hard to achieve. I figured it'd probably be the only high point in what would likely be an otherwise short and average career in a Death Korps armoured regiments (which typically meant short, bloody, and ending with being blown into a thousand pieces). Little did I realize that their careers were just getting started.

"I'll be sure to pass the word on when I can," Waffans replied, sounding a little sceptical of Cain's high words. No doubt Waffans knew something about the two soldiers that we had yet to discover. Since the veracity of the soldier's deeds was not the primary concern of our visit, Waffans promptly asked what was so important that it couldn't be mentioned over the vox. Suffice to say, the news of a spy did not sit well with him.

"Damn them all to the warp!" Waffans said angrily when he first heard the word 'spy.' "It's bad enough having to fight enemies wearing Imperial uniforms but now we got one running around behind our backs? When I get my hands on him I'm going to put the fear of the Emperor back into him right before I gouge out his eyes and-"

"Commissar, please! The matter at hand," Cain interrupted before Waffans could descend into a hate-filled tirade, which could last for quite some time if he hated spies as much as he hated a pair of cold leather boots in the morning. "We found this device on one of the dead xenos, we need what's on it to be sent to Colonel Kasteen," the commissar continued explaining as he fished the device from his pocket. He handed it over to me and I proceeded to climb up the side of the tank to Waffans, who seemed too concerned with his vox to meet me half-way. I hung up there for a bit even after handing over the device, taking in the view of the surrounding area.

"You think he's hiding in one of the other regiments?" Waffans was quick to reach the same conclusions we had. He fiddled with the device in a similar fashion that Cain had, managing to bring up various pictures, maps, and globs of alien text that could have been outlining the next day's breakfast for all we knew. "I guess you were right all along…" he muttered before disappearing into the labyrinth that was the Lament. "Hey Tak! VIP transmission to the Valhallan CO! Everything on the device and if I so much as hear you breath a word of what's on it to anybody else I'm using your head as a hood ornament."

There were times where I wondered if Waffans had ever actually carried through on any of its inordinate threats but I always got the sense from the troops under him that Waffans' threats were rarely taken seriously. In fact, the more fanciful the threat, the less serious he was. I think it was only because Kriegans viewed death so casually that he was able to get away with it. I doubt the Valhallans would have been so receptive. After a few minutes he finally emerged and returned the device to me.

"Could be worse, I suppose. We could be dealing with those damnable Eldar. You can never tell what in the warp those frakkers are up to," Waffans remarked. "Wish I was just dealing with Khornates – no mystery with what they want."

"Yeah, could be worse I guess. The Tau don't seem too bad compared to some of the others," I said with an indifferent shrug. "They don't leave planets in a huge mess for starters."

"That's probably why Segmentum Command isn't as concerned with them," Waffans agreed. "The Tau might be taking planets but at least we can take them back down the road – you can't do that with Chaos or the 'nids; and good luck trying to dislodge a fully entrenched Ork horde from a planet believe me!"

"Still, the last thing you want is to ignore a small problem and then wake up five hundred years later and suddenly it's a huge problem. We need to show these xenos that we're not going to just sit back and let them pick off our worlds."

"Preaching to the choir miss," Waffans explained, making me feel a bit sheepish. "Not going to find anybody more interested in blasting these xenos off-world than this guy. We hand this lovely posting on a paradise world that was pretty much nothing but miles and miles of white, sandy beaches. Then these bluies show up and I have to slog it half-way across the sector and fight through this damned rain and if I don't get a chance for a hot cup of tea soon I can't be held responsible for the property damage that ensues."

I laughed quietly picturing Waffans on a rampage in the stormblade, shouting his demands for a cup of tea over the vox amplifier. The lightened mood was promptly snuffed when Waffans' CO called for him on the vox. I didn't catch much of the message but it sounded urgent and the exasperation in the commissar's tone afterwards did not leave me feeling confident.

"I swear to the Emperor, I don't know if I should throttle that Trevek guy or just cut out the middleman and go for Frick and Frack," he explained before I even got an opportunity to ask. By that point I was already piecing together what had just transpired. "Those damn rookie Adumbrians are engaging the Tau rear guard outside the city walls. You should get back to your regiment cause I need to go bash some skulls and I ain't talking about the bluies." He was about to disappear back into the bowels of his war machine but I was quick to intervene.

"Can I bum a ride off Watz? Or are you going to make Cain and I walk all the way back?" I asked. Since Watz and Heilmit were technically under Waffans' authority at this point I couldn't just walk off with them and I wasn't sure if they were going to be needed in the upcoming assault, though I suspected they wouldn't since they were merely driver and navigator of a small transport. They were, in fact, part of the motor pool and were primarily responsible for ferrying equipment and people around; their presence so close to the front was merely out of a necessity for mobilizing troops. In short, Watz and Heilmit were armed, glorified couriers, which would certainly explain why they were so willing to defy orders in hopes of rescuing Cain.

"Keep them for as long as you need them. In fact, until I tell you otherwise, don't give them back…please."

Waffans' eagerness to unload the pair had me worried at first and a quick search through the Imperial archives later on revealed the reasons rather quickly. Apparently Watz had been drifting through the various companies and squads of the regiment since his recruitment and never managed to stay in a role for very long before being passed off to some other unfortunate lieutenant. The man certainly wasn't stupid as his training accolades can attest to but apparently the man was just…lazy to put it simply, not to mention some difficulties with dealing with what he considered to be 'overbearing authority figures.' He seemed to have little sense of ambition and his position as corporal was mostly due to a necessity of having somebody in that position to fill out the rosters. In a way, he just wanted to do as little work as possible, which was hard when you were in the Death Korps.

Heilmit, on the other hand, hadn't caused the commissar any problems until he wound up being paired off with Watz. He was young and inexperienced and while he didn't lack in technical knowledge, he lacked the proper judgement that typically came with time. I got the impression that Waffans just wanted to get rid of Watz at any cost. Since at that time I had yet to see any evidence to make me second-guess Waffans' decision, I was more than happy to take Watz and Heilmit off his hands. Despite the occasional bout of frustration they brought, I would never come to regret my decision.

Except maybe that time Heilmit used General Rhodan's prized rockhound to test a tank's new thermal targeting system. Good thing there wasn't enough left to get a positive identification.

"Have fun stomping the xenos," I said as I hopped back down to the centaur. Had I known this was to be the last time I would have a face-to-face conversation with Waffans, I would have thought of something better to say.

Cain was just finishing his vox conversation with the colonel when I dropped back into the centaur. Apparently, according to Kasteen, some sisters from the Orders Dialogous had been on Magnus Viridis for quite some time, translating recovered texts from the Eldar raiders and diplomatic documents from the Tau. They were more than willing to aid us in our campaign against the Tau invaders and few doubted there would be anybody more trustworthy to remain true to the Imperial cause than a sister of the Adepta Sororitas. It had quite accurate information on key figures, primarily the regimental commanders, and even had which transports they were landing in. The only glaring error they found thus far was that my transport was misidentified as Cain's. Though I was curious what else the Tau knew, a full analysis would have to wait until after the city was won.

"I take it I'm driving you to back to the Valhallans?" Watz asked, figuring we wouldn't still be in the centaur without good reason.

"Lieutenant Lustig reports the convoy is making good progress, it might be more prudent to simply wait here for them," Cain suggested, "plus if I'm drawing the Tau's attention it would simply endanger the convoy even further." I whole heartedly agreed with Cain on that suggestion, though for entirely different reasons – I simply didn't want to drive through enemy-infested streets in another open-top transport with the one man on the whole planet the Tau wanted dead at all costs. If he had insisted otherwise I was half-inclined to hitch-hike my way back. Working with Cain was proving to be very hazardous to my health, though I was blissfully ignorant that this was only just the tip of the iceberg. Though waiting wasn't particularly fun, I didn't have to worry about dodging plasma bolts or painting the walls with my viscera, which was infinitely preferable. While we waited, Heilmit adjusted the vox caster until it was broadcasting a feed from Waffans and the rest of the Kriegan armoured regiment. He was eager to listen in on Waffans verbally duke it out with the Adumbrians and I couldn't blame him since I, too, wanted to see how Waffans would play this out.

At first the vox conversation played out exactly as one would expect; the Adumbrians, facing a sudden, fierce resistance from the Tau were delighted to see the armoured chassis of the Kriegan tanks emerging through the main gates. What proceeded was probably the most uncivilized discord between military men since Sanguinius and Horus.

"You better start frakking explaining to me what the frak you frakheads think you are doing chasing those frakking xenos outside the frakking walls!" Waffans began, not even building up to his full-level of frustration. This was all the more amusing because the man Waffans was spouting his rage at was none other than the regimental commander, Trevek.

"Doing my Emperor-given duty commissar," Colonel Trevek replied. "Now I might be new to the Imperial Guard but I know how to fight a war dammit and I know you're outside your jurisdiction in trying to order me around. These xenos have desecrated these lands long enough and I intend to cleanse every inch of soil in their blood. Suffer not the alien to live, remember?"

"Those passages are not a substitute for your brain colonel and I might not have the authority to put a lasbolt through that useless knot on top of your spine but if you spout excuses like that again and I won't suffer your stupid to live!" Waffans could be a very, very angry man I learned at that moment. He was toeing a lot of lines in the general authority of a commissar but, quite frankly, I don't think he cared. His primary concern was for the safety of the mission, which regrettably required the Adumbrians to live for at least a little longer.

"My commissars are completely behind me on this decision and…"

"I know they're frakking behind you - if they had their hand up your ass any further I might be able to see them wave to me whenever you open your mouth. Maybe you should put mommy and daddy on the line instead and let the big kids talk about waging a proper campaign." I have to admit, I was sort of giggling by this point and even Cain seemed thoroughly impressed, if only a little put off by Waffans' prolific use of profanities. Cain wondered why Waffans was doing the talking when this was a matter that should have been left for the regimental commander but, according to Watz, the commissar was, by far, the more diplomatic of the two.

"We're already listening Commissar Waffans and I suggest you calm down and save your anger for the enemy," Wren suddenly intervened, trying to play the supposed peacemaker, if only so that when the tribunal inevitably convened he could point to Waffans' anger and make the case for irrationality all the easier (not that this ever came down to a tribunal).

"I've got enough anger to drown every one of you back-water frak-nuts in and still have leftover to hand-wash my stormblade in."

"With all due respect Waffans-"

"I neither want nor need your respect Wren. I wouldn't even wipe my ass with it so you can just stuff it down the gullet of that walking trash compactor of a compatriot of yours and listen to these words because I'm only going to say them once before I start blasting anything that's still in front of me; pull your troops back inside the city and pray to the Emperor that I'm in a better mood when I come back. Otherwise, I'm going to rip off your nuts and hang them from my auspex viewer!"

"You…treacherous dog, what gives you the authority to bark orders at another regiment?"

"The Office of 'I've got a bigger frakking gun than you.' I am not here to save your butt because I want to; I'm here because I have to, so pull your men back inside that city before we hang your scrawny ass out here to dry!" This would continue on for several more minutes, mostly with Waffans shouting more and more threats and repeating the same order to pull back into the city but the Adumbrians seemed to stubbornly refuse to give in to the orders of one commissar, even if they were technically the same orders that the lord-general would be giving were he in communication range. Wren knew there was little Waffans could actually do barring opening fire on the Adumbrians but that would just guarantee that the Kriegans would be nailed as traitors for attacking another regiment (not that I believed for a moment that this fact acted as a deterrent for Waffans). I was wondering if Cain was ever going to intervene but he likely realized, just as I had, that Wren wasn't going to change his mind for anybody. For a moment, I was actually beginning to worry that Waffans might actually carry out one of his threats for a change and we could have a full-scale revolt on our hands all while the Tau would be taking pot shots from the sidelines. It would be a catastrophe, not to mention a huge embarrassment for the entire Imperial Guard – I imagined the Tau standing off the distance watching Imperial Guards suddenly turning on each other, which they would no doubt flaunt to other worlds in the sector to show just how flawed the Imperium was.

To be honest, if I was a civilian and I saw such a scene, I would be having second thoughts about the Imperium as well.

However, if there's ever a unifying force in the galaxy, it's hate and when the Tau began pressing hard against the two regiments, the vox caster became a flurry of orders and calls to action. Even Waffans and his overflowing fury immediately ignored the Adumbrians and started ordering the plasma cannon to full charge. I quickly gathered that the Tau had begun a counter-attack, though the scale of which I had yet to realize. Cain seemed worried about something and I suspected he was seeing something in the situation that was eluding me. Suddenly Cain pushed past everybody and grabbed the microphone for the vox caster.

"Trevek, Vismarck! Pull your men out of there now; you're being pulled into a trap!"

"What are you talking about?" Trevek was the first to reply, sounding understandably sceptical of Cain's sudden outburst. "Wait a second…those xenos are dressed in red and…merciful Emperor, where did they all come from?"

"It's a whole other regiment!" Waffans shouted, in a tone that left me unnerved me since out of all his highly-inflective tones, worry was not one he displayed often. "Fire! Fire everything dammit! Maximum power to all batteries! This is Commissar Waffans to all Imperial troops; we are under heavy fire from Tau reinforcements, estimate enemy forces to be of regimental strength or higher. Request immediate support to our position at the Vertens main gates."

Of course, everyone in the centaur turned to Cain for an explanation of what he knew. I imagined Cain would often grow weary of his near-paranoid hunches always turning out to be correct; that's the problem with being perceptive, though, you always see the truck that runs you over well before anyone else does. "Tau tactics love two things – lighting-quick strikes against vital targets and luring armies into massive ambushes. Rushing into the starport, stretching their forces so thinly, was likely part of a desperate gambit to eliminate me and potential end this conflict quickly. Now that I've joined up with the rest of our forces, though, I'll be much harder to get to so now they're turning to their other trademark tactic."

"Luring our units out into the open where they can hammer them into dust," I finished with that stunned realization you usually only got when you realize the grenade you're holding is missing that all-important pin.

"So if they had all these forces in reserve, why didn't they just deploy them into the city?" Heilmit asked, trying to follow Cain's reasoning.

"Most likely to lure us in," Cain answered. "That means that taking the city probably isn't an objective of theirs." Again, Heilmit was confused but as a soldier his understanding of military campaigns was limited to 'take and hold territory,' so the idea of intentionally ignoring a major city was a bit of a mystery to him. Cain, however, had his theory as to why but he said he would explain later as our immediate concern was getting our forces back inside the city walls.

"Colonel Vismarck, you have to pull your troops back into Vertens. The Tau will not pursue you once inside," Cain advised over the vox.

"I hope you're right about that Commissar," the colonel agreed. "This is Colonel Vismarck, all units are to pull back into the city immediately and if you're still alive Trevek that means you better haul your arse along or we're leaving you to entertain the xenos by yourself."

It wasn't how any of us envisioned the end of our battle to retake the city but if it still resulted in victory than I could learn to live with it. However, no sooner had the colonel agreed with Cain's advice did we hear a strange set of alarms sounding off, emanating from the direction of the main gates. Since never in the history of the Imperium has an alarm meant something good, we were all quite concerned and wondering in exasperation what the heck was going to happen now. The panicked shouts over the vox quickly answered that question.

"What the frak is going on? Somebody is closing the main gates!" Waffans shouted after a very long string of profanities. "Headquarters, we're still outside the city walls, why are you closing the main gates?"

"We didn't," Major Currae replied. "Just before the Tau launched their assault we lost contact with gate control and all remote access was severed."

"Well thank the frak for letting us know that beforehand! Somebody get in there and open that damn door!"

Cain and I both reached the same realization that we were probably the closest people to the main gates. "Watz, drive!" I ordered, though redundantly since he had likely reached the same conclusion as us and was already revving the engine. "Headquarters, this is Commissar Abel, I'm roughly half a kilometre from the main gate, how do we reach the gate's main control room?"

"The main service entrance is roughly fifty-eight meters to the left of the main gate," Currae explained. "Take the stairs up to level A-5 and follow the marked corridor."

Watz needed no further instruction beyond that, pushing the centaur's engines to its limits as he drove straight for the entrance. He barely even hit the brakes when we arrived, instead throwing the vehicle into a slow spin that ground the vehicle to a halt so that the centaur's rear door was right in front of the aforementioned service entrance. "Looks like we get to play hero again," Watz remarked, tossing a lasgun to his fellow guardsmen before we all exited the vehicle. Our two Kriegan friends were in a particular hurry, barely even waiting for Cain, Jurgen, or I as they raced up the stairs. When we heard lasguns firing, Cain and I picked up the pace.

"We've got contact; single hostile, probably a traitor," Watz informed us as we arrived.

"Why do you say that?" Cain asked, though when a laser bolt zipped past his head from down the corridor the reason became pretty obvious. Due to the poor lighting conditions as well as the long stretch of hallway that separated us from our attacker, who appeared to have bunkered down in the control room, we had no idea how many we were actually facing or who they were. However, we never heard more than one lasgun firing at a time so Watz' assessment appeared to be accurate.

"We can't stay here, we need to push forward," Cain said, though it was a bit redundant. Unfortunately, the narrow corridor provided minimal cover and the assailant had impeccable aim, making our superior numbers almost useless. Since we needed the control room intact the obvious tactic of flushing him out with a grenade was counter-productive. We had no choice but to fire and advance and pray to the Emperor that he didn't have any grenades of his own. As Watz laid down suppression fire, Heilmit started advancing up the side. Normally the amount of fire Watz was putting down range would prompt any sane person to keep their head down but apparently we were either dealing with somebody very brave or very stupid as the assailant managed to snap off a couple return shots, one of which struck Heilmit in the shoulder.

"Gah…frakking bastard!" Heilmit cursed, raising his lasgun with his good arm and spraying several shots downrange, hitting nothing but the walls.

"To the warp with this," I grumbled as I pushed ahead of the others. I reached into my coat, pulled out the krak grenade, and hurled it down the corridor. Before you think I acted rashly, I had simply tossed the grenade without priming it so it was about as deadly as a rock with the words 'boom' written across it. Hopefully, whoever was at the far end of the corridor wouldn't realize that fact until I had already finished sprinting the whole distance. With my shock maul and laspistol in hand, I chased after my bouncing grenade, fuelled by burning rage and a desire to beat the bloody blasphemy out of him. The krak grenade had barely finished its third bounce when I barged into the control room, shock maul held up in preparation to thump someone's skull...

It was perfectly-executed plan, except that the room was completely empty when I arrived. All there was were dusty rockrete walls, lined with various control lecterns, and a krak grenade still rolling across the floor.

"What…the…frak?"

I ran through the past minute and a half in my mind a dozen times over, wondering how the heck I wound up with an empty room. I knew for certain that we were being shot from this direction and I had four witnesses to back up my sanity, one of whom had a burnt hole in his flak armour to serve as testament. Cain caught up to me just in time to hear a huge string of unlady like profanity escape my lips because at that moment my eyes happened to glance upwards and I noticed an open ventilation shaft just overhead.

"Kind of pointless to try and chase after him now," Cain muttered as he looked in the same direction as I. The ventilation system was probably a maze of ducts and chutes, which meant that our assailant could be in any of a dozen locations by now. Given the size of the opening I doubt anybody aside from myself would have been thin enough to fit through and there was definitely no way I was going to try and crawl through a bunch of air vents to Emperor knows where. Firstly, I'd get lost in a heartbeat in such a confined maze. Secondly, and I state this with great reluctance and embarrassment, I may have been (and still am) a bit on the claustrophobic side. Now I wasn't at the level of 'let me out of the chimera,' but something really tight and narrow like an air vent or the inside of a Leman Russ and I'd be trying to cut my way to freedom with a laspistol.

"We need to get that gate open," Watz said, for some reason helping Heilmit along to the control lecterns. The flak armour appeared to have absorbed the bulk of the heat and impact but even then I imagined his shoulder was hurting a whole lot. Despite what pain he might be in, he seemed to ignore it as he started looking over the lecterns.

"You know how to work this thing?" I asked, slightly puzzled by a mere trooper apparently trying his hand at such religious matters.

"I used to go out with an enginseer…you'd be amazed at what you can learn from them when they're trying to impress you," he replied, though straining through the pain. "I mean…don't ask me to repair a holoprojector but I can make sense of most of these controls." After taking a careful look over the various controls, the young trooper began turning some dials and tapping on various control runes, all the while muttering what I assumed to be various litanies to complete the ritual.

"So…what happened to you and the tech girl?" I asked curiously since there wasn't much else to do at this point but wait and pray that Heilmit could figure things out.

"Well, things gradually declined the more techno-bits she got installed. By the time things finally fell apart, most of her was mechanical. I really regretted having to end things cause she was still the same girl as when we started…at least the parts of her that were still a girl. Still, when you're half-machine it just gets harder and harder to relate to the flesh and blood type."

"Plus you can't put your dick into it," Watz added.

"True…well, you can but it's not as fun anymore."

"Can we focus on the gate please," Cain interrupted, forcing them back on topic.

"Then pray to the Emperor this works," Heilmit said as he tapped one last control rune. There was a loud, promising grinding noise emanating from the walls around us, soon overlapped by a loud groan-like sound and a repetitive clacking noise that reminded me of a tank driving over a car wreck. All of these sounds, though, ended abruptly, leaving only a blinking red light and a faint buzzing noise from the control lectern.

"That's bad isn't it?" I muttered and sighed.

"It means I got shot for nothing," Heilmit replied. "The command links from these lecterns have been completely severed. We'll need a team of techpriests just to get this thing functioning again."

That was definitely the news we didn't want to hear, though I had partly expected that our assailant would not have fled had he not ensured his plan would not be interrupted. I took it upon myself to relay the bad news to Waffans, who was as pleased to hear it as could be expected under the circumstances – I didn't take any of the dozens of slung profanities to be against me personally.

"That does it then, I'm making my own entrance," Waffans announced. Seconds later, the whole earth seemed to quake as the first of several salvos were fired into the main gates. Since there was little good in us remaining in the now-useless control room, we made our way back to the centaur. Driven more by curiosity and concern than a belief I could actually be of assistance, I wandered over to the main gates while Watz and Jurgen took care of Heilmit. I heard Cain mutter something a few steps behind me but with all the noise I couldn't make out a word he said. Waffans had already succeeded in blasting a sizeable hole through the towering forty-foot-high gates and scores of troops and vehicles were pulling back into the safety of the city. I can't really say what compelled me to continue forward, moving towards the chaos that everyone else was intent on fleeing from but I needed to see for myself what was happening. Through the breech in the gate, I could see that the withdrawal had almost turned into an all-out route. Scores of tanks and chimeras were already ablaze with the dead littered everywhere, many of which were crushed beneath tanks that were too busy retreating to notice or care.

The Traitor's Lament had positioned itself ahead of the breech, valiantly shielding the retreat with its own mass. The stormblade was being hammered from all sides, smoke already billowing from ugly breaks in the armour. Without a turret the stormblade would have had to turn about completely in order to blast apart the gate, exposing its weaker rear armour to enemy fire. The desperate gambit had worked but even a cursory glance at the stormblade revealed the price it had paid in takings it attention away from the enemy. The weapon sponsons on the left side were completely wrecked and the remaining heavy bolters had fallen silent having spent all their rounds. I could see Waffans sitting in his hatch behind a heavy stubber, remaining defiant as he emptied belt after belt of ammunition.

As more and more guardsmen retreated into the city, those outside fell under greater pressure as the Tau heavy armour began to focus their fire. Another blast of plasma took a chunk out of the Tau front line but in response several railguns fired in rapid sequence, gouging a huge crevice through the starboard treads, immobilizing the behemoth. Though the realization that we were about to lose our largest weapon hit me hard, what stung worse was the realization that Waffans had no intention of abandoning his post. Even as the last of the able-bodied guardsmen found refuge behind the city walls, Waffans remained defiant behind his heavy stubber, barring any infantry from attempting to pursue.

"Come on Waffans! You have to get out of there! You can still make it," I pleaded even though I knew it was pointless.

"Life matters not, only duty!" Waffans replied, reciting an old saying in the Death Korps of Krieg. "You'll just have to do the rest of this without me. I know you and Cain can get the job done – you two make a good team. Oh, and next time you see Commissar Wren could you punch him in his fat, ugly nose for me?"

"I'd be more than happy to," I replied, trying to keep a level tone.

Just then there came a bright flash from just over the stormblade, some sort of stun grenade I presumed as it even left me seeing spots for a few seconds and I was standing quite a distance back. My vision cleared just in time to see a Tau battlesuit land right on top of the stormblade, looming silently over Waffans like a judicator ready to pass judgment. I recognized the white-painted head and scorch markings along the sides as belonging to the same battlesuit that accosted me when I first landed. Realizing his end was at hand, Waffans simply stared up at the towering machine.

"Go ahead and kill me," Waffans goaded. "I do not fear the darkness, for the Emperor's light is my torch."

At least his end came quick, vaporized in a flash of plasmatic energy that burnt a deep crater through the top of the stormblade. The battlesuit fired several more close-range blasts into the tank, ensuring that there was nothing left for us to salvage other than a giant pile of broken metal. Rage and sorrow combated in my heart, leaving me feeling nothing but a shocked daze as the battlesuit rocketed to the top of the main gates, landing upon them in a remarkable display of balance and dexterity.

"Soldiers of the Imperium, your great weapon lays defeated and your soldiers in ruin," the battlesuit suddenly spoke, his voice magnified by some Tau equivalent of a vox amplifier. His heavily accented voice was slow, articulate, and deliberate, carrying with it a sense of calm, yet unwavering fortitude. "I am Shas'O Tau Lar'shi, military commander appointed by His Eminence, Aun'el Tau Sho'aun'or'es. This planet has languished under the neglect of your Emperor for too long and its citizens and leaders have embraced the call of the Greater Good. This world is now under the protection of the Tau Empire. So go…go and return to your Emperor and tell him that the people here have chosen freedom and prosperity over his tyranny. Leave while I am still feeling merciful. You have twenty-four of your standard hours to comply."

I think Watz summed up everybody's feelings rather accurately when he launched a krak rocket at the battlesuit. He missed horribly as the battlesuit simply disappeared behind the remains of the gate but I think he got the point across nicely.


	11. ELEVEN

**ELEVEN**

Losing somebody close to you is a feeling that I have never gotten used to even after numerous decades of service. Anyone who's spent even a single campaign in the Imperial Guard knows the feeling and, like any soldier, all I was able to do at the time was try to cope with the sudden void in my life. Commissar Waffans was a good man and a good friend and if things had gone differently I'm sure that our relationship could have grown into something more. Alas, that was never to be and despite lamenting his demise for several days, by the time I left Magnus Viridis he was but another memory. His features fading to that of just another face, a face like so many others. Its regrettable, but I can barely recall how he looked other than the characteristic cap, coat, and mask. Features that made him look like every other commissar attached to the Death Korps. It is a sad truth that unless one has done something truly remarkable and on an immense scale your memory will inevitably cease to be: people will forget your name and face; your heirlooms will decay and crumble; all records of your existence will fade or be written over; and you will eventually be degraded to just another soul amongst countless trillions that have passed on before you. To be totally forgotten is a fate worse than death and yet it is the fate of everyone except for an exceptional few. Even my contributions to the Imperium will barely amount to a footnote in the annals of history and those annals will be forgotten, destroyed after a few millennia or rewritten by next victors and all the important lessons it contained will be lost. As an Eldar once said to me, the biggest problem with humanity isn't our violent tendency but our woefully short memories. Decades after the fact I can understand what he meant but at the time I was too busy trying to perforate him with a heavy bolter but, once again, I'm getting ahead of myself.

The aftermath of our battle for the city was nothing short of complete pandemonium. The arriving Valhallans and Kastaforians were eager to push beyond the city walls to avenge their fallen brethren but when Lord General Zyvan was finally informed of the catastrophe he ordered a complete cessation of our offensive operations and directed an immediate consolidation of our remaining forces.

As for myself, I cannot recollect much from the time immediately following Waffan's death. I recall meandering to the Lament's wreckage and staring out to the Tau forces surrounding the city but little else beyond that. As O'Lar'shi had implied, the Tau force outside the city had ceased firing upon us and were slowly drawing back into the forest. That mercy, though, was a stupid mistake on the Tau's part as we were soon able to recover the wounded from the field and focus our energy on salvaging a number of damaged armour units in order to rebuild some of our heavy forces. I watched as wounded soldiers limped passed me, some having to be led by others as the smeared blood and gore across their faces had left them blinded. I even recall seeing one man stumble passed me, his eyes glazed over as though all conscious thought was absent. He was completely oblivious to the fact that both his arms were missing. Much like the death of Devian back on board the _Bounty_, a sense of impotence overwhelmed me as I stared into the enemy lines as they vanished into the thick jungles. According to Watz, I was in a shocked stupor and it took both him and Cain to drag me back to the centaur. I should have been more grateful as seeing a shell-shocked commissar would've immediately tanked all confidence and credibility in us. For once, my penchant for going unnoticed probably saved my reputation.

When my mental faculties decided to start doing their job again, I was sitting in the corner of the main command center with a bowl of tanna leaf tea in my hands. Since the bowl was half-empty and my throat felt hot I assumed that I had been sipping at it subconsciously. Under my breath I muttered something about desiring a real drink rather than tea but given my state it was a good thing I kept sober. Most of the regimental senior officers were gathered around the briefing table, shouting and yelling about things that I could barely make out. The only people absent, I noted, were the senior officers from the Adumbrian and Kriegan regiments. There was a Kriegan officer present but it wasn't anyone I was familiar with. He looked a little dishevelled and smelt of burnt promethium and grease. He wore the bars of a lieutenant on his collar, which led me to the later-confirmed suspicion that he was the highest-ranking officer left in the armoured regiment. A stocky young man, the stress of battle was still evident in his twitching eyes that locked onto anything that made even the slightest rattle and it took a small mug of rotgut just to get his nerves calmed enough for the briefing (a somewhat unorthodox tactic but a strung-out junior officer was about as useless to us as the hat on his head). Commissar Cain spent quite some time talking with him once his nerves had been settled and by the end of their conversation he had a faint, reassuring smile. Cain had worked his magic charm once again.

"What's your regiment's status lieutenant?" Zyvan finally asked.

"Umm…really, really bad?" he replied bluntly and it became obvious just how far he was in over his head. I doubt that he had ever been addressed by somebody as high as a lord general, let alone given audience. "We grouped what's left into new squads…about four or five in total. Most of them are damaged and a few need replacement crews. We've got one vanquisher from the heavy armour company, a few annihilators and exterminators as well, but the rest are standard pattern Leman Russ tanks. In total…we're at maybe 20% effective strength…probably less actually."

"And the recovery operation?"

"Well, uh…we're still unloading the Trojans from the shuttles, sir. Our techpriests are out on the field inspecting the damage and seeing if any can be salvaged."

"They must be rightly hacked off right now," Zyvan commented, which made a few officers chuckle faintly. "We'll need every tank that can be recovered. I'm sure Kasteen and the other regiments will have no objections to lending all your technical staff in order to facilitate the process," Zyvan stated to no one in particular.

"It'll be much appreciated," the young lieutenant nodded. "At the very least, we should be able to get enough spare parts to keep what few tanks we have running as well as the remaining tanks from the Cadian regiment." Zyvan then directed again to no one in particular, "Anything you salvage that can fire but cannot move will be turned into a defensive strongpoint inside the walls"

"Speaking of my Cadians," Major Currae interrupted, "with your permission, Lord General, I would recommend that we merge our armoured regiments together. With no disrespect to the lieutenant, the remnants of his regiment will need a proper command structure for leadership." The move made sense since both armoured regiments were woefully under-strength at the moment. With Zyvan finally planetside a more solidified command structure could be organized. Currae was visibly relieved that a more experienced officer would now take hands on command of the campaign and Cain reassured me in private that there were few generals he had more confidence in than Zyvan, which left me more reassured despite the bleak outlook at the time.

"Do you have objections to this lieutenant?" Zyvan asked out of politeness rather than any actual need for consent.

"None!" he rather hastily blurted in response. Perhaps he was a bit too eager to relinquish command but on the bright side, the lad knew where his limits were. Much like Currae, he was relieved of the stress of leadership and could fall back into the role he was far more comfortable in. He never did muster much higher than a captain but last I checked he was retired and teaching at a schola back on Krieg. Retirement alone was something most Kriegans never achieved so I guess he did all right. The recovery process would take some time once the Trojans were finally led out into the field, many of whom were paranoid the Tau would start taking potshots at them while they worked. As I mentioned before, because of the Tau's generosity, we were able to salvage a great deal and by the time we were to head outside the walls, we had a respectable armoured force again. Once again, and to no surprise, Cain would later put forth his own contribution to this effort – a contribution that would greatly affect the outcome of the campaign.

The briefing went on for several more minutes, the details of which I cannot recollect but they revolved primarily around solidifying our defences for the time when the Tau realized we weren't going to leave. With the main gate full of holes we were going to have trouble keeping the Tau out, a problem which was compounded by the fact that the Tau had breached the walls in several other locations, some of which were only large enough to squeeze troops through and so hidden by industrial hardware that one would scarcely notice them in passing. "We'll need to plug all these holes if we're going to stand any chance of holding Vertens," Zyvan said even though it was a bit of an obvious observation.

"We should send teams to scout the perimeter walls and mark them for the engineers," a Kastaforian officer suggested. "It'd be faster if we patrol from the outside…though we can't be sure how the Tau will respond."

"If the Tau don't attack the Trojans, we can be safe in assuming they won't fire on foot patrols," Zyvan concluded before suddenly turning to Cain. One of the things about being on good terms with a Lord General was that they had a tendency to look to you as the first volunteer. Cain probably enjoyed that perk but I would've felt differently. As expected, Cain was prompt in accepting the task of leading some of the patrols should they do it from the exterior and, knowing Cain, that meant he was going to drag me along as well for 'experience.' He did, however, voice the same concern about the Tau as well and said he wouldn't want to jeopardize the safety of our troops just to get a simple job done a little bit faster, which was an admirable thing to say I suppose. Of course, now it meant my safety would only come at the expense of somebody attacking the Trojans.

Since the universe has never been very kind to me, the Trojans were eventually able to work without incident, which meant that Cain and I were to lead patrols outside the city walls. But we wouldn't learn of that fact until the next day. For the time being, Zyvan decreed, we would consolidate within the city, tend to our injured, plot new strategies, and would worry about plugging holes in the morning. It had been a long and hard-fought day and he felt pushing the troops further would be counter-productive to morale.

If I knew how much trouble would spawn from one night's rest I would've scouted those walls in the darkness entirely on my own.

The meeting came to an abrupt halt when the doors opened and our good friends, the Adumbrians, came waltzing in. Up until that point, the subject of the Adumbrians had been the carnifex in the room and while Kasteen would normally have gone on a tirade on the subject, proper etiquette stayed her tongue. The sudden silence and hard gazes reflected the unanimous sentiment from the rest of us – this mess was the result of their actions. Were we not so hard-pressed for troops we would have had their entire command staff summarily executed. Though the regimental officers were willing to express their contempt through insidious glares, my temperament insisted on a more obvious expression of my discontent. Cain was the only one who noticed me rise from my seat at the rear of the room however by the time he clued in on what I was about to, do his calls for restraint came too late.

I always upheld my promises so I went straight up to Wren, who was surprised and puzzled by my sudden approach, and punched him right in his oversized nose. Stimpsen, in an effort to protect his comrade, tried to draw out his laspistol but his fat fingers and battle fatigue meant he bumbled in his attempt. By the time he got it out, I was able to seize his arm and slam him face-first into the briefing table. I probably would've continued too were it not for Cain forcibly pinning my arms lifting me up and hoisting me away. It was probably for the best as my rage would have compelled me to beat the Emperor-loving life out of them both.

Being almost seventy pounds lighter than Cain, I was powerless to resist him as he hauled me back from the table (unless I wanted to start a fight with him too). "That's enough Abel, we have sufficient enemies to deal with without us going at each other's throats," Cain said. His words plus the realization I had assaulted two commissars right in front of a Lord General finally served to calm me down, not to mention leave me feeling a bit embarrassed. When he felt the tension ease from my muscles, Cain let me go and I took a seat at the table as far from the Adumbrians as possible.

"I guess we should've expected that," Broklaw commented.

"To be honest I forgot she was even in the room," Zyvan replied. I half expected some sort of protest from the two commissars but once they had been helped off the floor they merely took a seat in silence. Most likely, they knew the axe that hung over their heads and weren't about to draw any more attention to themselves than they already had. Besides, aside from bloodied noses and bruised egos, they were fine. "Well, now that everybody is here we can get down to business. First, and I'll be brief because there are more important matters at hand, Colonel Trevek…you're reckless disregard for orders and the advice of veteran officers is not only a disgrace to your homeworld and to your regiment but a blight upon the Imperial Guard itself. Your regiment is still in good order only because of the selfless valour of thousands of Kriegans who gave their lives to save your worthless arse. Whatever happens on this campaign, Trevek, you, your commisarsand your regiment will not leave until this planet is under complete Imperial control, is that understood?"

It was probably the only time I had ever seen Trevek visibly shaken and I almost felt a little sorry for him. It wasn't entirely his fault that his lack of off-world experience led him to rely too heavily on the ill-guided advice of his commissars. At the same time, though, he should've remembered who was in command and kept his mind on the objectives. "Y-yes your lordship," he answered and remained silently for almost the whole duration of the briefing.

As the hololithic display unit in the table activated, illuminating a glowing three-dimensional map of the city and the surrounding region, Zyvan directed everyone's attention to the readout of our forces scattered throughout the city. "As you are all already aware, the devastation of the Kriegan armoured regiment creates a major weakness in our current strategy. With limited armour support available now, our original plans for a major push along the highway into the Tau-controlled capital of Aedans will have to be put on hold until additional reinforcements arrive…if Segmentum Command decides to send any." Zyvan's inflection on the last few words left us with little doubt that Segmentum Command would consider the situation 'too volatile' to risk sending in additional forces. The fact we lost our armoured regiment so quickly would likely make the powers-that-be second-guess Zyvan's ability to ensure a victory. Of course, it was considered on par to be sent into major campaigns grossly undermanned despite the supposed urgency in obtaining victory. Perhaps Segmentum Command had more faith in the Emperor's ability to deliver victory despite the Adumbrian's impeccable talent for deftly snatching defeat away from the jaws of victory.

As the conversation continued, the diagram flickered out and was soon replaced with a new image of the planetary capital Aedans, which looked almost identical to Vertens with the exception of the governor's palace. Like Vertens, it too had massive walls used in years passed to keep out orks and raiders. "Without sufficient armour support, any attempt to punch through the front gates of Aedans will fail. As such, our best bet in taking control of the city is to approach through the jungle, breech through the weak points into the wall's infrastructure making our own gate for our assault forces."

"The jungles around the city are going to be crawling with those kroot bastards," commented Captain Hellgarr, one of the ranking officers from the Catachan regiments and a man who probably had more in common with an ork than with the average Imperial citizen. "Now my boys aren't afraid of those tree-jumpers but asking us to fight our way up to the city is going to be slow and bloody." Now it was obvious that the Catachans would have no qualms about fighting through miles of jungle but the rest of us were more accustomed to urban warfare and the apprehension was visible on the faces of most of the other regimental officers. Zyvan, though, didn't seem too discouraged, though the fact that he would be sitting all the way at the backlines sipping recaf and tea may have had something to do with that.

"With the Emperor's blessing, we might not have to," Zyvan explained. A bright, blue light began to flash for attention – a long, wavy line that extended from a few miles northeast of the city and continuing all the way past Aedans. "Before the highway was completed, this river served as a major means of transport between the two cities. Small, secondary roads connect Vertens to a riverside town. The Adumbrians will make a push against Aedans main gates in a diversionary assault while the remainder of our forces proceed up the river and offload at this point less than a half-mile from the city walls."

Though I said nothing at the time, I had my concerns about the transparency of such a plan. It would be unlikely that the Tau were oblivious to the river's existence and even less likely that the governor hadn't taken it this route into account. Still, if the Tau were banking on us retreating then they may have not been prepared to repel an assault. As Cain once explained to me, the Tau were not fans of defensive tactics and holding a city against us was counter to their usual military conventions. "And what about the Orks?" Cain asked, giving voice to my second concern. Though we didn't have accurate reports on the Ork problem, we knew that they were situated somewhere between the river and highway in the dense jungle.

"My intelligence officer assures us that the Orks main camp is situated well enough away that our forces will go unnoticed by the Orks. Even in the worst-case scenario, the river is wide and deep enough to keep the Orks from being too problematic. If they do try to follow us up-river, they will attract the Tau's attention and we can capitalize on the added confusion."

I probably wasn't the only one grimacing at the thought of us, the Tau, and the Ork all in one massive, bloody brawl but if that was our best option for getting off this planet then what other choice did we have? I had the sneaking suspicion that I would be near the forefront of all that carnage but the truth ended up being that I would be knee-deep in the middle of shit-creek. This little pearl of wisdom wouldn't dawn upon me until I was well past the point of no return. At the moment, I still naively believed I could make it through the campaign unscathed.

As the meeting progressed and various ideas of volleyed back and forth across the table like artillery rounds, all mixed in with thinly veiled criticisms of the Adumbrians, the Lord General finally adjourned the meeting. All the regiments still had work to do in order to finish securing the city and I had a bottle of amasec to acquaint myself with along with a mountain of paperwork to dig through. Though it might sound strange to some, I was actually looking forward to a bottomless barrel of bureaucracy and silently hoped that my next footsteps onto a battlefield would be at a much later date (once again, my hopes were as accurate as a cross-eyed ork). Not wanting to take my eyes off either of the Adumbrian commissars, I waited until they had filed out before finally getting up and joining suit. When I stepped out from the briefing room, though, I was surprised to see a pair of Kriegan soldiers waiting for me, one of whom had their arm fastened in a sling.

"What are you two doing here?" I asked.

"Hoping to hear first-hand how screwed we are," Watz sarcastically answered, which I really couldn't fault him for. "What do you think? We were waiting for you obviously. We were hoping that we could perhaps…remain assigned to your service."

At first I was at a bit of a loss for words and half-suspected they had ulterior motives for hanging around me. The truth, however, was far simpler – I had treated him far better than any other commissar or commanding officer and he simply didn't want to go back to being bossed around by a bunch of humourless carbon copies. He got a taste of life outside a Kriegan regiment and he liked it, especially since any officer in his old regiment would've smacked him upside the head for such prolific use of sarcasm. As for Heilmit, he was simply following his friend's lead. "I know Commissar Waffans said to stay with me until he said otherwise but as a commissar he technically has no authority over personnel assignment. You'd have to put in a transfer request with your commanding officer."

Just then, said commanding officer, the young lieutenant, happened to walk past us. Since the merge was technically only in a functional sense in order to provide a stable command hierarchy, the lieutenant still had authority over the Kriegans under his command. "Hey Mann," Watz shouted, "get me transferred over the 597th here and I'll call us even."

It took a moment for the battle-weary lieutenant to realize he was being addressed again but once the gears started churning he recognized who was addressing him and why. "Oh, uh…sure. I'll see what I can do," he hastily replied and nodded before shuffling off in an even greater rush.

"Just how many people are indebted to you?" I asked with thorough confusion.

"Far less now thanks to almost all of them being dead," Watz replied. "There goes my carefully laid plan to indebt my way into an easy retirement."

"You do realize that I'll be giving you anything but?"

"True…but the way I see it, with you I have a chance to do something that nobody in my family has been able to for generations – make it to retirement." For a Kriegan, such a goal seemed almost like a far-fetched dream but if he really wanted to make it out of his military career alive I had every intention of making him work for it. All in all, it was quite a profitable partnership for the three of us.

* * *

Despite my willingness to barricade myself in my makeshift office (I think it used to be a storage room) behind an impenetrable wall of paper and dataslates, I was eventually coaxed out by Cain. Maybe he knew that burying myself in work was my usual means to cope with stress or maybe he just thought that I made him look bad by working so much. Either way, once Cain managed to dig his way through my castella of dataslates, he didn't need to work very hard to convince me to tag along. Were he a more self-centered man I would have been worried about how easy he could convince me to see things his way but I trusted that he was thinking of what was best for me.

As we walked out of the main compound that served as our headquarters, a few times he asked how I was holding up. While I appreciated the sentiment, I insisted that I was still perfectly capable of doing my job. Waffans wasn't the first friend of mine to die in combat but he was definitely the closest. When I was still a cadet, a friend of mine by the name of Kenrick had an unfortunate midnight rendezvous with the business end of an Ork's cleaver. It was probably the first time I had seen somebody get hacked apart by an Ork up close but I felt very little over the loss. In fact, my first response was merely 'Emperor's blood! They killed Kendrick!' However, despite my insistence to the contrary, Waffans' death was affecting me to some degree; a fact made evident by my sudden, violent reaction to Wren's appearance back in the briefing room. I believe I was trying to convince myself that I was okay more than I was trying to convince Cain. Whether by pride or my strict adherence to the credos that Kriegans were unaffected by death, I was determined to keep my focus on my duty. The Emperor, after all, came before my petty emotions.

Despite the ongoing military campaign happening around us, there was a strange calmness surrounding our headquarters. Soldiers stood attentively on guard while sentinels and servitors moved heavy equipment to and from our makeshift vehicle bays and only occasionally was the sound of clanking mechanized walkers interrupted by barked orders from hastily-erected speakers. Along with the tranquility there also hung an air of despair; normally chatting and joking troops were instead quiet and somber and those we passed only gave us a passing glance. One didn't need to be a commissar to tell that morale was dipping amongst the troops but even Cain's charm could only do so much. It was falling beyond the help of cheery words and fancy speeches – they would need a victory in the coming days to remind them that the Emperor still watched over them. Victory, though, was something we couldn't give them just yet so all we could do was keep the troops from turning mutinous for a few more days and make sure the next battle turned out better. Fortunately, as I would learn over the years, wherever Cain was, you could be certain that trouble would eventually find its way to him. How so much trouble could gravitate to one man is a truth that never ceased to confound me.

Perhaps he kicked the Emperor's puppy in a past life.

Since I generally kept my attention focused on Cain, I didn't realize that he was leading me away from the compound (and more specifically the officer's mess) until we were at the perimeter checkpoint and a guardsman asked where we were off to at such a late hour. With his commissarial authority and legendary status, he was able to brush the guardsman aside with little more than a trifling gesture of reassurance, which was probably more consideration then most commissars would've given the soldier.

"Where exactly are we going?" I asked once my curiosity could take no more of the mystery.

"Just a little place that Jurgen scouted out for me while we were in the briefing," Cain replied. He was clearly taking the time to enjoy teasing my curiosity with nondescript answers. I shouldn't have been surprised that something was open in the city despite nearly a quarter of it being reduced to rubble and smoking craters; even if the world was ending tomorrow people would still insist on going out and getting a pint. Beside, with an influx of nearly twenty-five thousand guardsmen and non-military support staff, what self-respecting entrepreneur wouldn't try to take advantage of so much idle coin?

Night was already setting upon the city, which wasn't saying much thanks to the world's relatively short planetary rotation (a day lasted roughly seventeen standard hours), but there seemed to be enough working luminator poles in the city streets to keep our path well-lit. Aside from the occasional cluster of patrolling soldiers, we saw little activity on the city streets. What civilians remained were still bunkered down in their shelters with little interest in venturing topside until it was guaranteed safe. In fact, I think Zyvan insisted they remained where they were so we didn't have to worry about ushering them all back down when the Tau realized they'd have to evict us in person.

Despite the forecast of impending doom mixed with a chance of horrific mutilation, there did appear to be one establishment that intended to remain defiant in the face of annihilation. I couldn't blame the owners for wanting to keep the place running – better to die doing what they enjoyed rather than cowering in a crowded emergency shelter (which, by the way, offered absolutely no protection against anything other than stiff breezes and heavy rain). The establishment in question was known simply as the _Tirnanog_, which meant Emperor knows what and when I asked around I got answers ranging from ancient High Gothic dialects, native tongues, indigenous species, to the owner's mum, none of which were correct according to later research. Regardless of the weird name, it was a fine establishment and I would certainly recommend it to anybody venturing to that sector of space (though most people who travel to Magnus Viridis are of the obscenely-rich class who would likely consider such a place far beneath their standards).

For its supposed popularity, it was extremely small and if it hadn't been for the hanging metal sign over the door at the very corner of a large residential block I would have walked right past it. In fact, the sign was basically the only indication that it was a place of business of any extent and differentiated it from all the other doors that led to residential units. Such architectural repetition was a hallmark of the city and the only thing that set this particular drab block of housing apart from all the other rockrete monoliths was that this one had a Tau hovertank crash through the front lobby. At least the burnt, yellow hull added a bit of colour.

The interior of the _Tirnanog_ made up for the lack of a proper façade – finely varnished dark woods adorned the walls, countertops, and furniture, with brass fitting and fixtures that were all complimented by the tinted luminators that gave the tavern a soft, yellow hue. Behind the bar was a burly, old man with an enormous moustache that seemed to have left him unable to grow hair anywhere else on his head. He seemed to be preoccupied sorting through crates of mugs and glasses, separating the good ones from their shattered brethren. Our arrival, announced by a chiming bell, caught his attention and he seemed quite pleased to see a pair of Imperial commissars dropping by. He was quite eager to profess his anger and disapproval of the governor's actions and sing praises of our timely arrival, Though part of me suspected that this could have been partly in anticipation of the rounds of Inquisitional questioning that would follow once we had reclaimed the planet. Genuine or not, he was eager to serve us and the few patrons that were already present were quick to give us the space we desired.

"You know Abel, if you need a few days off to recoup you're welcome to it. I can keep you busy with enough paperwork to keep you off the field," Cain said a short time after we took a seat in a far corner booth.

As tempting as the offer was my pride was reluctant to let me just slip away from my responsibilities that easily and I bet that Cain knew this as well but made the offer anyways if only to appear supportive. "I don't need to be coddled Cain," I replied. "I'm not a child anymore."

"Except you are…at least by military standards," Cain insisted, shifting to a stern and hard tone that I would eventually dub his 'tutor voice.' "You're young, you're eager, you're far more energetic than I can muster at my age, and most importantly you're hacked off at enemy and ally alike. If you don't keep control of things you're going to make rash, impulsive decisions that are only going to get you killed. Trust me when I say that I know what I'm talking about because I was exactly the same way when I was young. Then I got stranded on Perlia, smack in the center of enemy territory, and completely abandoned by the people who used to be my allies and now thought I was dead. I was hacked off…but I kept a level head. I just don't want you rushing off trying to kill every Tau on your own…there's enough of that sentiment from the troops already without you adding to my problems."

I sat in silence for a while, pensive as I mulled over his words. Finally I simply released a defeated sigh, "Dammit, why do you get to be right all the time?"

He chuckled and said, "It's something you acquire as you get older. It's pretty much the only thing you get to look forward to when you reach my age." We shared in a quiet laugh before returning to more idle conversation – what to do about troop morale, disciplinary horror stories, and how much we'd love to strangle certain guardsmen. These were the sort of things that a commissar simply couldn't share with the common trooper and I believe that Cain appreciated having an outlet that actually spoke back.

Unfortunately, our peaceful evening eventually came to a crashing halt. That shouldn't surprise anybody, though, since Cain's presence usually stirs up a ruckus, either in the positive or negative sense. The fact that we had gone for almost an hour completely undisturbed was surprising but it gradually became a 'too good to last' and by the end we were waiting for the inevitable. It started as most commotions in a tavern do – something spilled, people started shouting, and eventually somebody got dropped through a table. We should have ignored it but since bar fights could turn very violent very quickly we eventually decided to investigate. What we saw was a little bit surprising – the fight seemed to have broken out between a scrawny young man and the one of the single-largest humans I had seen not encased in power armour (a Catachan, judging by his fatigues). What was surprising, though, was that it was the Catachan who was facedown on the broken table.

"Terribly sorry about the table Maddok," apologized the one standing. Unfortunately, it took a lot more than just a few planks of wood to put a Catachan down and the angry giant was soon getting back to his feet. "Aw, come on big guy…I already said I was sorry. I'll buy you another one. There's no need to get violent." However, his words fell on deaf ears and the Catachan belted him with a powerful hook that sent the man stumbling into the bar. "Wow…guy has fists like rockrete," he commented to the barkeep, who seemed concerned over the smaller man's safety.

"You okay there pal? Need anything?" the barkeep asked.

"I could use some salt," he said and helped himself to a nearby salt shaker, which happened to be almost a foot long and made entirely of brass. I don't believe the Catachan was paying much heed to what was being said as he approached undaunted and just as he was about to swing the smaller man spun around quickly and clocked the Catachan with the salt shaker. That only stunned the giant, however, and it took a second, heavier swing to knock him out. "I think we'll refrain from the salt puns for tonight," the victor mused as he tossed the salt shaker back to the barkeep.

By this point, Cain had grown weary of watching some civilian beat the tar out of a guardsman and moved to intervene. "I think that's quite en-" Cain spoke but didn't get to finish his sentence. The moment his hand touched the other man's shoulder to turn him about, the civilian sprung into action. Before my hand could even reach my laspistol Cain had already been thrown into the ground and likely would've received worse had I not fired my gun into the air to finally put an end to the debacle.

"You there," I said sternly, aiming my laspistol at the civilian in question, "hands where I can see them and step away from the commissar."

"Commissar?" he repeated and took a second glance at the man at his feet. He seemed genuinely surprised at the realization that he had just toppled over an Imperial commissar and not just another drunk guardsman. "Oh sweet Emperor, I…I didn't realize you were one of them. I mean, I thought you his friend or something…"

"And now we can add assaulting a commissar on top of assaulting a guardsman," Cain said as he got back to his feet. He seemed unharmed by the assault, likely more stunned by the surprise than the actual impact. Though he sounded irritated, Cain didn't seem very angry at the incident but considering what we had gone through during the past several hours a drunken idiot was a pleasant alternative to kroot warriors and battlesuits.

"Either one of those is a capital offense; should I just shoot him now?" I asked.

"Sh-shoot me? Now hold on just a minute," the man hastily replied. "There's no need to be so hasty. The guy swung at me first, you can just ask anybody else in the bar. I was just defending myself!"

"Right, then you beat him senseless and throw a commissar to the ground," I replied, feigning skepticism in order to simply torment the man further. I had no intention of actually shooting him unless Cain wanted me to (which I doubted considering Cain's nature) but it didn't mean I couldn't have a little fun at his expense. "How do I know you didn't antagonize the big guy, hmm? For all we know, you could be an alien sympathizer…or worse, a conspirator."

"You think I'm in league with those misanthropes? Oh, now that's just ridiculous. I spent years in the PDF fighting off Orks and pirates!"

"You mean the PDF that the bulk of which is now aligned with the xenos?"

"Oh…right, bad example."

"Wait, you were a soldier? Kinda scrawny to be fighting don't you think?" I remarked. The guy might have been about as tall as Cain but he was only slightly heavier than me. Had he not withstood a punch from a Catachan I would've assumed him to be liable to be floored by a stiff breeze. A closer look, though, did reveal some tell-tale signs of an experienced soldier, including scarring along the sides of his head, including the upper edges of both his ears, which looked as though they had been chewed off.

"Yeah, I know…crazy isn't it?" he replied and sounded a lot more casual than he should've been. "They'll pretty much take anybody these days, even useless, scrawny-ass wimps like me."

"Stop being so damn modest," the barkeep suddenly shouted out. "This guy was the best damn shot in the whole PDF…and he knows the jungle like the back of his hand."

"Frak Maddok, what'd I ever do to you?" the man groaned, now visibly annoyed with the barkeep but in the 'contempt and familiarity' way. "I told you I didn't want to get involved in this mess…now people are going to be all 'Hey Kay, take us to the secret jungle passage' and 'Yo Kay, kill all those damn Orks for us!'"

"Well then, if you wish to avoid the summary execution block and prove you're not an alien sympathizer, I suggest you find the nearest security station and volunteer your services to His Divine Majesty," Cain spoke up as he motioned for me to holster my weapon. With how drained our forces were we would need any assistance we could muster, even if it was from a questionable civilian source. Normally I would prefer if the civilians just stayed out of our way but it wouldn't be the first time civilians were used as guides in unfamiliar territories.

"I…I guess I have no choice now, huh?" the man sighed in defeat. "If it's all right with you two, I think I'll have one last pint before I sign myself up to get killed." Given the man's attitude, I could have easily ventured a guess why he was a former PDF soldier.

Little did I realize, though, was this man was going to have a far greater impact on the events on Magnus Viridis than I could have possibly foreseen. In fact, that night in the _Tirnanog_ would have lasting consequences on my life for decades to come.


	12. TWELVE

**TWELVE**

When I was told that the patrols were to start investigating the city walls at dawn, I had mistakenly thought that this left me with adequate time to get a decent sleep. Unfortunately, with its short planetary rotation, night lasted under seven hours and I was still operating on the standard twenty-four hour Imperial clock. The only thing operating in my favour was that I was dead tired after the day's events so trying to get sleep at 0900 hours as easy as falling down. What was difficult, however, was trying to pry my face off of my pillow (which was just a rolled up coat) after only five hours of sleep. I was half-tempted to put a lasbolt into the offending perpetrator who was trying to rouse me out of my sleep. Luckily, for the guilty party, it was Watz and he happened to be carrying a mug of recaf along with a plate of hot food. He was always a careful planner I'll give him that much even if his caution did sometimes come off as more defiant then thoughtful.

"Transfer went through already?" I guessed haphazardly as it was the only thing I could think of that would warrant him being here. I didn't have a billet assigned yet and I was so tired from the night that I had collapsed into the first available spot I could find, which happened to be a cot in one of the command posts many make-shift barracks. He would have had to ask around to find me, which was apparently a lot harder than one would suspect despite being the only female commissar on the planet.

"You sound surprised," Watz commented as he handed me breakfast. "I was told a commissar put in a good word to the Colonel Kasteen to facilitate the process." I knew for certain that the commissar in question wasn't me so that left only Cain and I had no clue why he went made the effort. However, I wasn't about to question Cain's generosity, especially when it resulted in me getting a nice, hot breakfast. The recaf was most welcomed as it was the only reason I was able to get out of bed without falling face-first onto the ground. Watz had even planned ahead and had grabbed a thermos full of recaf for me so I could make it through the rest of the day. If he was trying to butter me up he pretty much had me completely marinated by that point.

Sadly, I should have expected that he brought gifts not only to ward off any morning crankiness but also because his first duty was to be the bearer of bad news. Well, technically it was good news overall since it was to inform me that the Trojans had gone unharassed through the night, which meant the morning's patrol would be outside the city walls. Now I had little to look forward to other than spending the day trudging through a jungle likely filled with bugs and xenos with the hope that I could stay awake long enough to make it back without being eaten alive. As the Lord General had emphasized the importance of getting the task completed quickly, I had to wolf down my breakfast and drink my recaf on the way to our assembly point.

"How's Heilmit holding up?" I asked as I had noticed the young man's absence once the recaf had taken effect. One rarely saw the two apart so I was actually a little worried about him.

"It'd take a lot more than a lasbolt to keep Spike down; he's just down in the medicae facility hamming up his war wound to the medical orderly," Watz explained with a slight hint of jealousy in his voice. "He's got her all enthralled with his 'I got to save Cain' story. Absolutely no shame that kid…"

"Somebody sounds bitter," I teased with a playful smirk.

"Am not!" he snapped back.

"Then go around and woo some of the Valhallan girls with your heroic story of rescuing Cain from the evil Tau soldiers."

"I…can't. It wouldn't work," he said and I noticed a hint of reluctance in his voice. He must have known it showed as he continued, "Spike likes wearing his mask because he's proud of it. I have to because…well, there was an incident a long ago involving a plasma grenade and my face. Suffice to say I won't be winning any beauty pageants."

"Oh…sorry to hear that," I said softly. War was an ugly business and Kriegans were often sent into the ugliest parts of it, which led to a lot of stories and rumours about what the typical Kriegan looked like under their mask. Such rumours were grossly exaggerated of course but that didn't stop the more gullible civilian populations from eating it up. Truthfully, Kriegans looked like any other citizen of the Imperium, if only a little bit on the pale side depending on how old they were (which is why Kriegans usually refer to recruits as 'whities'). In Watz's case, though, it held rather true…from what he told me once he could 'make a grox burger look pretty.' Having firmly planted my foot into my mouth I decided to keep quiet until we met up with Cain and the others.

Morning had brought about a renewed sense of energy in the regiments, a fact apparent when I first stepped into the courtyard outside our headquarters. Though it seemed like soldiers were running in every direction, a military-trained eye could see the precision and order that underlay it all as every soldier moved in cue with those of their regiment. With several regiments all in one area it looked like a mob but everybody moved with purpose. Thankfully, being a commissar carried certain perks with it – such as being able to part a busy crowd of soldiers just by walking through it. The morning had also brought with it a light rainfall but between my lack of sleep and my clothes being thoroughly drenched the day before, I barely even noticed the precipitation.

Unfortunately, being new to the frontline I still had yet to develop the flexible sleep cycle that the others enjoyed so even though I had been woken up fairly early I was still the last to arrive at the front gates. Cain, Kasteen, and a few officers from the Catachans were already waiting when I arrived, though it took a few moments before Cain brought my arrival to the attention of everybody else. Luckily, the layout of the mission was fairly straightforward so it didn't take long to bring me up to speed – scout the walls, mark the location of any breeches, keep an eye out for the Tau, and try not to get lost (for some reason everybody looked at me when that was brought up). The wall was divided into several sections that each squad was responsible for scouting and I, being the last one to the party, got the worst of the batch – a lengthy stretch of wall that ran alongside densest part of the jungle. Once the little briefing was finished, our little cabal parted ways to round up their squads, save for Cain and I who lingered for a few moments.

"Don't worry about it," Cain reassured me, "from what I've heard, the jungle here is almost completely harmless. There is a slight hitch though…"

"What's that?"

"You'll be doing it with them," Cain said as he pointed out a squad of troopers standing near a parked chimera. I immediately recognized the sergeant who was briefing the remnants of his squad and cursed inwardly at my ill fortune. Dealing with Sgt. Jydais during a firefight was one thing but having to spend the bulk of the day traipsing through the jungle with him was another. I wouldn't have been half-surprised if they tried to accidentally 'lose' me during the mission. One of his men, Avruch, was killed during my high-risk maneuver around the enemy lines and I had no doubt that he held me personally responsible for it. Were they not also the smallest squad in the mission I would have tried to attach myself to another squad. Alas, my sense of duty and dedication to the mission wouldn't allow me to let my personal feelings get in the way, regardless of how much I hated that sergeant. That wasn't to be the end of my woe, however, as Cain said a moment later, "It gets worse I'm afraid."

"How could it possibly be worse?" I groaned.

"I think he means me m'dear, which I'll try not to take offense to," an eerily familiar voice cut in. It was that cocky tone that belonged to the man from the tavern the night before and now he was standing behind me with an odd grin plastered across his face as though he was thrilled to see me.

"What…are you doing here?" I asked bluntly since there wasn't any point hiding my displeasure. I think he actually took amusement in my reaction; that or he just chuckled at everything, which could have been just as true.

"Well I did as you two ordered and volunteered my expertise. A lovely young colonel read my file and was absolutely thrilled to have me on board…well, she was actually rather skeptical at first but once I threw your names into the mix everything fell into place and she was happy to have me on board. Charming young woman she is…don't suppose she's single is she? I'm not technically part of the military so it's not against regulations, right? Hm…maybe I should worry about that after the killings over and I can see if I'm still breathing." The guy's mouth sped like a neurotic junkie on stims and a pint of recaf and despite several attempts to interrupt he kept on talking. "Ah but I digress; once your names were involved her doubts subsided and since this was mostly your working, Miss Abel, she decided that it would be best if my considerable talents were put under your watchful eyes…er, eye." What he didn't realize, or maybe didn't mention, was that Kasteen's decision meant he was solely my responsibility. His success and failures reflected upon me so I actually had to give a damn about what he did and how he did it.

On the bright side, the scrawny bastard actually looked like a proper soldier now. Though his uniform looked a bit on the worn side, the jungle-pattern fatigues were still in good condition and the flak vest he wore didn't even have a scratch on it. Given his reputation, it was no surprise than he had the look of a scout with a customized long-las slung over one shoulder and his entire figure hidden beneath the swath of a large, green cloak.

"Who the frak are you anyways?" Watz asked since he was clueless as to what was pissing me off so much.

"Formerly Corporal Kael Mynar, now most people just call me Kay and you're more than welcome to it," he introduced himself and then turned to look at me." Don't look so down luv," he continued in his usual smarmy, cocky tone, "it's a beautiful day to go out for a stroll. The real beauty of this planet is outside these drab, old walls, you'll see. Plus, tell you what I'll do; I'll pick you out a nice Verten Glory while we're out. It will go perfectly with your eyes…um, I mean eye. Not that your other one isn't very lovely in a high-tech sort of way. You know what, I think I'll wait for you guys in the chimera, ta!" He didn't even wait to be dismissed before hurrying off to join Jydais at the chimera. I wondered, and hoped, that the sergeant would have a similar reaction to the man but that wouldn't be the case. Jydais would quickly pick up on how much I loathed the man, which meant that Jydais had all the more reason to like him.

"Should I just shoot him now, commissar?" Watz asked plainly as though he were asking if I wanted a refill of recaf.

"Leave him, he might still be useful," I groaned and followed to face the inevitable frustration that was Jydais. He was about as pleased to see me as I expected but he wasn't surprised by my arrival as he had been briefed on it. "Morning sergeant, are you going to be civil today?"

"Depends. Are you still going to be a pretentious blow-hard?"

"I could shoot you for that sort of talk," I reminded him though, not surprisingly, he didn't flinch at it.

"You're still welcome to give your best shot," he said. Judging by the harsh glare from all of his troops I wouldn't be able to even reach my holster before being filled with holes so at least I knew where I still stood with the squad. As much as I hated the man, he wasn't worth getting killed over. "Original offer stills stands – you can stay in the chimera and we'll just say you tagged along."

"And you can still get stuffed. Now get in the chimera." I knew orders weren't going to fly very far with Jydais or his men but since those were the orders they had to follow from the colonel they complied and we filed into the vehicle. While Watz was smart enough to sit between me and Kael, it unfortunately did not prevent the man from carrying on his conversations with everybody in the chimera. The troopers kept Kael preoccupied enough with questions about what to expect once outside the city but much of what Kael described supported Cain's previous comments about the jungle being fairly tame. Given I had little interest in him, I paid little attention to the conversation and only caught various snippets about how very few predators in the jungle would even consider attacking something as large as a human and that there were virtually no poisonous species on the planet. In short, a person was more likely to get hurt walking along the city streets than spending their afternoon in the jungle.

Of course, most people don't take their walks during a military campaign.

* * *

We disembarked from our chimera at the edge where the paved rockrete courtyards surrounding the city met with the fertile growth of the planet's flora. I imagined that when the city was first built the separation between the city and the surrounding jungle was more abrupt. But over the years the jungle had crawled back and begun encroaching on the rockrete and the buildings. Vines and sprouting foliage carpeted the rockrete as we headed out, gradually growing thicker until we couldn't tell if we were still technically walking on the rockrete. Luminator posts were gradually replaced with towering trees whose thick canopy blocked out not only the vast majority of the daylight but also the rainfall. The shift in the atmosphere was staggering as we moved further from the main gates and we soon found ourselves in a dark, dawn-like mist. Were it not for the massive city walls a few meters to our right, it would have been easy for our party to have gotten lost in the mist.

I was relieved to see that, despite Kael's reassurances, Jydais and his team fanned out into a standard advancing line as if we were in hostile territory. Lalee and Kael took point several meters ahead of the rest of us and both had a penchant for disappearing into the brush for long periods of time. To mark the location of each breech we carried a bag full of luminator posts that the engineers and techpriests could later track on their auspex units. Watz surprised me by volunteering to shoulder the load, which worked out well for me as it kept me close to Watz while the rest of the troopers needed to keep an eye on the guy carrying the posts. By extension, it meant I didn't have to worry about Jydais or his team ditching me in the jungle by 'accident.' They may not have had any need for me but they needed the posts to complete their mission.

Chatter was generally kept to a minimum, again another sign of professionalism that I was pleased to see. For me, having spent most of my years on a world where little more than moss and lichen could still grow, a lush and fertile jungle was a wondrous sight. I rarely got opportunities in my career to see so much life free from the suffocating confines of rockrete buildings and cages. Unlike cities which were just crowded with people, never once did the jungle give a sense of an all-consuming presence. Dense as it was, it never stopped feeling open…for me at least. My decision to leave my rebreather mask back at base was rewarded with the mist's refreshing coolness against my face. For a brief moment, I wanted to remain outside but then a huge bug tried to nibble on my neck and I was immediately reminded why I preferred to stay in cities.

Our advance was occasionally interrupted by our forward scouts when they uncovered tracks left behind by the Tau. However it only took Kael a minute or two to ascertain that they were all old tracks left from the previous day's attacks. The first major incident to occur took place when Watz took a moment to admire a small creature that hung from a nearby tree. At first I thought it was a plant as it had a somewhat amorphous body that hung from several tendrils from an overhanging branch but when Watz approached it the thing shuffled across the branch a couple of inches. It was no bigger than my fist, covered in a fine brown fur, and made a strange clicking noise whenever Watz leaned in for a closer look.

"Heh, the little guy is kinda cute," Watz commented.

"I'd keep my distance from that if I were you," Kael responded from the front.

"Why's that? Looks harmless enough." Almost on cue, the creature suddenly flung from the branch and latched itself across Watz's face, or at least his mask. The tendrils wrapped tightly around his head, sending him into a frenzied panic as he tried to pry the thing off but to no avail. "Get it off! Get it off!" he shouted. It took a few moments of arm-flailing and fruitless tugging but eventually Watz realized that it wasn't actually harming him or obstructing his breathing – it merely obscured his vision. He calmed down but that didn't help his situation very much.

"What is this thing and what the warp is it doing?" Watz asked our local guide.

"We call them tree jellies and it is harmless so don't worry," Kael explained as he came over to help. "Does it feel like it's prodding you in the face?"

"Yeah…what does that mean?"

Kael grinned slyly, which would have been unsettling for Watz if he could see it. "It means its trying to lay eggs in your mouth. Again, it's perfectly harmless so long as you don't panic."

Now Watz easily could stare down Ork hordes and daemonic beasts without flinching in his resolve because as a guardsman it was his duty to fight the enemies of the Imperium whatever they may be. His job description, however, did not include getting face-raped; even death seemed preferable to such an ordeal. Watz immediately went back to full-blown panic, taking the butt of his weapon and smashing it hard into the creature. After the fourth hit, though, the thing didn't budge and the only one who was injured was poor Watz, who collapsed in a daze.

"We call them tree jellies for a reason – no bones and all that" Kael said apparently indifferent to Watz's plight. "Now hold still and I'll get that off you." Flicking out a lighter, Kael waved the flame close to the creature and it quickly lost interest in Watz's face and scuffled off back into the trees. Thankfully, Watz was always diligent in following the safely advice for any guardsmen – always bring protection – and the only thing that got violated was the mask. He was dazed (due to his own efforts) and slightly traumatized but otherwise unharmed and once all the other troopers were finished chuckling we were able to continue on with our mission.

"I have stared into the dark abyss…and now I know what true terror feels," Watz muttered in a haze while I helped him back to his feet. "Didn't even have the decency to buy me dinner first."

"I know that feeling," I jokingly reassured him, "you'll get over it."

Our squad continued on its way but now we gave the indigenous life forms a wide berth. We found our first breech in the wall about a half-hour into our trek. It was hard to miss since the Tau had used a fairly powerful demolition charge to make the whole, which left a sizeable portion of the jungle in splinters. While Watz and a few others went inside to scout out the extent of the damage as well as mark the entrance and exit with the luminator poles, I remained outside and kept a vigilant eye for any signs of danger. Even though I didn't expect any kind of trouble to lurk in the jungles, I didn't want to be caught unprepared by one of those face-humping critters.

"In this kind of jungle, you'll hear things coming well before you ever get a chance to see them," Kael suddenly spoke up. He startled me slightly as it came from a tree above and to my left, which was about a dozen meters away from the last place I saw him. He was perched on one of the lower branches, his body pressed against the trunk and his cloak wrapped tightly around his figure, making him almost impossible to see if you didn't know where to look. Only his eyes were easy to spot, especially since they were staring down at me. Hopefully I had managed to keep my surprise hidden but I half-suspected that he could see right through me. "Then again I am here to make sure the non-existent predators don't eat you all so I suppose there's no reason for you to bother keeping a look out."

"Well what would you expect me to do then, hm?" I replied.

"Who says you need to do something? Just have a seat and rest, enjoy the scenery, stop and smell the flowers as people say."

"Doing nothing doesn't really sit well with me," I insisted. Though I wouldn't have minded taking a seat for a little while, I remained standing if only out of spite and pride. It was all very typical-Kriegan of me to punish myself in order to prove a mundane point.

Kael dropped to the ground, barely making any noise in the process, a few feet ahead of me and approached me with a cautious look in his eyes. "Miss Abel, I don't want to panic you but I need you to hold very, very still," he said in a whisper. Immediately thinking back to Watz's fateful encounter, I tensed up and while I was tempted to look about, I heeded the advice. Looking about as much as my good eye would allow I saw nothing that would suggest trouble but there was a whole world behind me that could have been ready to eat me or worse. Slowly and deliberately, Kael took a few steps closer and though I asked what was wrong he didn't say what, only to keep holding still. The only clue he gave me was that there was something near my head. In one quick and deft motion, his hand reached out over my shoulder and plucked a small blue and purple flower from a nearby branch and then slid it into my hair just above my right ear. He did it so quickly I didn't realize what had just happened until I saw his goofy grin when he backed away and said, "There we go. Now you look absolutely radiant!"

I gave him the angriest glare I could muster but I don't think he was perturbed in the slightest. In fact, he appeared to have found it comical, which only irritated me further. "We're on a mission here, not flower picking!" I shouted furiously at him. This only elicited more laughter from the man, who scampered back into the tree when I tried to throttle him. "This is no time for playing around you bleeding idiot!"

"Always so serious, aren't you Miss Abel? Normally I would say you'll get grey hairs being so high strung but it seems you've already taken care of that," the cocky little bastard teased from his hiding place in the trees. I was close to just whipping out my laspistol and firing a few rounds off but I could have set off a panic amongst the other nearby units so I refrained from attempting murder. I could have – I was well within my rights to do so but Cain would have probably disapproved of executing a perfectly good soldier. Besides, after that indignity I would only settle with seeing Kael suffer and he'd need to be alive for that to happen.

"If you two lovebirds are quite finished, we have a mission to get on with," Jydais shouted from nearby. I hadn't noticed that Watz and the others had returned so it was time to the squad moving again, which meant I could put some distance between Kael and I.

"Mynar! You're on point," I shouted at the trees. Kael's figure swung down from the branches, hanging upside-down for a moment as he snapped a quick salute with a 'yes ma'am.' I was ready to scream again but Kael hurried on his way so it became moot. Instead, I merely buried my face into my hands and let out a drawn-out groan of annoyance.

"Is everything okay Commissar?" Watz asked since he had missed the whole ordeal. I waved him off and told him it was nothing important, which he accepted without further questioning. "That flower looks good on you by the way," he commented idly before heading out after the others. I plucked the flower and took a closer look at it – its blue and purple pedals were arranged in a star-like pattern around the center, which had a trio of little stamens tipped with yellow buds. It had a rather sharp, sweet scent to it despite its small size and had it been given to me by any other man I probably would have kept it. Since it only reminded me of his idiocy, I promptly flicked it aside and joined up with the rest of the squad.

The remainder of our mission proved rather fruitless as we reached the end of our designated section of wall without coming across another breach. I voxed our status back to headquarters and then we proceeded to head back the way we came. From what I could gather from the vox chatter of the other squads, the extent of the damage to the walls was far less than we had estimated. In hindsight, it made sense since the Tau never had any intention of taking the city when they first attacked and thus no need to create various means of gaining entry. Nonetheless it was still important to plug the holes in the inevitable case the Tau reconsider their battle plans. When the rain had been light, the thick canopy overhead had kept us relatively dry but as the day progressed the rain grew heavier and started dripping through. Though nothing in comparison to yesterday's weather, it did serve as motivation to keep moving as I had a nice, dry room and a hot mug of recaf waiting for me back at the command post, which was all the comfort I needed at the moment. As we neared the first and only breach we marked, everybody started feeling a bit more at ease with the prospect of soon having a chimera to take shelter in.

"There's the luminator post – we'll be back in time for a late lunch," Kael said to me as we had gradually moved into a tighter formation over the past several minutes. "I hope you're not always so angry and serious when you're off-duty."

"A commissar is never off-duty," I said smugly, mostly out of spite. To be frank, I took whatever downtime I could to relax and unwind. It was almost necessary if only to avoid losing my sanity, especially considering some of the things I went through during the later years of my career. "However, it will be nice to be out of the jungle for a while."

"Oh come on, it's not that bad of a place," Kael insisted and sounded almost a little offended by my insinuation. "You just need to take a moment to stop and just…listen to the beauty around you." As if trying to prove his point, he stopped and motioned for everyone else to follow suit (they didn't hear our conversation so they thought it was for a legitimate reason). Frankly, all I could hear were various birds chirping and insects buzzing but he seemed to hear something that we couldn't because his head started scanning the distance. "Everybody get down," he whispered suddenly as he crouched behind a tree. That cocky tone of his was gone, which meant he was being serious for a change and the entire squad took up firing positions in a shallow arc towards the jungle.

"Did you hear something?" I whispered from my position a few meters to Kael's left.

"Somebody's out there," he replied before he started climbing up his tree. "Wait here, I'm going to check it out." As he vanished into the treetops, the rest of us were left in tense silence as we tried to figure out if Kael was correct. The problem, however, was that the jungle got exponentially denser as one ventured away from the city, making it impossible to see much further than twenty or so meters from our position. How Kael could suspect anything other than bugs and critters were out there was a mystery but he was the one who had decades of experience in the jungle so we weren't about to question his judgment. Not just yet.

After a few minutes, though, trooper Malakan started getting impatient. "For Emperor's sake, there's nothing out there. Let's just keep moving."

I was just about to agree with the trooper when the silence was broken by the sound of heavy crashing as something massive fell from the treetops, smashing every branch on the way down before hitting the jungle floor a few feet ahead of us. Falling leaves and broken branches clouded our vision at first but once things settled what we saw left us stunned. It was an ork – a hulking, green barbarian complete with an equally vicious-looking axe and autogun. However, he was also very, very dead as there was a large hole blown through his face.

"Where the frak did that come from? We should have heard him a mile away?" Watz finally spoke up, voicing what everybody was thinking. The one man who could help answer that question thankfully dropped down from above, landing on the ork's chest gracefully.

"Some orks can be very sneaky," Kael answered. "Better vox back to command because there's no way this is the only one out here." Unfortunately, the ruckus made by the falling ork alerted every other one nearby, who then immediately decided that stealth was no longer an option since we had apparently found them out.

"Humiez!" A deep, menacing voice echoed from the jungles, followed by the characteristic war cry that made even hardened veterans start to worry. Suddenly, the jungle exploded with activity as scores of guns began rattling off bullets wildly. The air was quickly clouded with exploding branches and torn leaves as gunfire rained from all directions and shredded the jungle apart. They couldn't see us, though, so all they succeeded in was making a huge mess of the area and forcing us to keep our heads down. Fortunately, we were in a well-defendable position with our back against the city walls and plenty of trees to keep us safe from the random gunfire. Conversely though, it also meant that we couldn't see the orks until they were practically on top of us, which was the last thing you want when dealing with orks.

"We can't stay here! We have to get back to the chimera!" Malakan shouted, his voice strained and showing signs of breaking.

"Keep your head down dammit!" Jydais ordered but even his words were falling on deaf ears. Malakan broke cover and began sprinting behind our line. By some miracle, though, he wasn't hit but I wasn't about to let him just run off. I should've just shot him for cowardice but I needed every gun firing if I wanted to make back alive. When he came within arm's reach of me, I latched onto him and used his momentum to swing and slam him into a nearby try. He was caught completely by surprise and when he finally realized what was going on I had him pinned against the tree and my laspistol shoved into his face.

"I should just shoot you right now but if we're going to win I need you shooting the enemy! Now you can either fight by my side or you can die by my hand but make up your mind quickly! What's your choice?" Fear could make a man do crazy things for a man afraid does not think. If you could get them thinking again, though, you could bring them back from the brink. For what felt like an eternity I stared into Malakan's eyes and watched as reason began to take a foothold in his mind once more and the fear slowly subsided. When he silently nodded I knew I had the soldier back and I released him. Immediately he fell into position, leveling his lasgun just in time as orks began to break through the foliage and into view. Concentrated laser fire ripped through the first group of orks, making the few lagging behind think twice about rushing into the open. Now that we had revealed our position the incoming gunfire became slightly more focused, though they still sent most of the rounds well above our heads.

"This is Commissar Abel to all allied units, we've got major ork activity outside the city walls. We are under heavy fire and request immediate support!" I called over all the major frequencies.

Cain was the first to reply, though his message wasn't what I had wanted to hear. "You too, huh?" he commented. I could gunfire in the background of his communication so he was clearly in just as bad of a situation as I was. "We got ambushed just a few moments ago. We've already lost half the squad but we've managed to take shelter behind a tank's wreckage. Do you think you'd be able to make it to our position?"

"I'm kind of up to my tits in orks here," I replied as I snapped a few shots into a greenskin's skull.

"Malakan kind of had a point," Jydais interrupted. "There's no way we can stay here with this many orks. They'll eventually smarten up and rush us." It didn't take a genius to realize that we were heavily outnumbered and while the orks were staying put at the moment, the second one of them managed to whip the others into a frenzy we would be steamrolled like a bug under a baneblade.

As much as I hated to admit it, running was actually the most strategic course of action. It was at times like those that I reminded myself that even an Astartes had to make a strategic withdrawal once in a while. "All right but we leave as a group," I replied.

"Okay boys, frags and smokes – throw everything you've got and we make for the chimera," Jydais ordered. Watz handed me a few of his extras and when Jydais gave the signal we threw every we had at the orks. Explosions rippled through the trees, blanketing the entire area in smoke and shrapnel. Now came the hard part – running. I grabbed Watz by his coat and pushed him forward. As a commissar I couldn't be the first one to start running and once Watz was moving the rest of the squad followed suit. Whether by foolishness or simply underestimating the others, I somehow wound up being the last one to leave as Kael rushed past me and shouted at me to get moving.

It was pretty stupid of me to have taken up the rear given that I had the shortest legs and stride in the squad. I was taking comfort in the fact that an angry horde of orks could motivate a planetary governor to become a marathon runner so I wasn't lagging far behind the others. At least, I wasn't lagging behind until a rocket slammed into a tree a few feet ahead of me, knocking me off my feet in a shower of bark and splinters. The biggest problem with being the last in line is that nobody notices when you go missing and even though I was knocked senseless for only a few seconds by the time I cleared the cobwebs from my head the others had completely vanished into the undergrowth

I was alone in a jungle with an angry mob of orks readying to hack me into lunchmeat. Just as the first one was ready to bring a cleaver down to end my miserable existence, its chest suddenly burst in a shower of blood and pulped guts as did the next several orks in quick succession. It was the trademark evisceration of bolter fire, which didn't make any sense since the only bolter was on the chimera a few kilometers away assuming it too hadn't buggered off when the orks made their presence known. My curiosity didn't last very long as the answer strolled casually towards me and I found myself before the blood-splattered armoured carapace of a member of the Adeptus Astartes…and he had his bolter pointed right at my face.


	13. THIRTEEN

**THIRTEEN**

The Adeptus Astartes; His Divine Majesty's loyal Space Marines; the Living Weapons of Humanity; His Angels of Death. Regardless of what title is used, the stories about the indomitable space marines are always the same – powerful, fearless warriors that could stand against any foe, survive against any odds, and triumph when all else has failed. Like many citizens of the Imperium, I was raised on such stories that painted the marines as a mythical figure of sorts. As a cadet, I idolized them and saw in them the ultimate personification of the Kriegan principle of 'duty unto death.' Most guardsmen and commissars can go their entire career without ever catching a glimpse of the soldiers of legend. Before Viridis, I imagined that if I were to ever meet a space marine it would be on a battlefield where I would be but one of thousands 'ordinary soldiers' supporting the Astartes. There safely within the confines of my dreams, I would have given anything for the chance to be noticed by them but resigning myself to the realization that the only hope I would have of being noticed would be if one of them had to scrape me from the sole of their boot.

Instead, the Emperor's will had dropped me at the feet of one of His Angels of Death and the only thing running through my head was the hope that he would turn his attention somewhere else. Even with a cursory examination I could see the legion of scars and scorches across his armour. Pot marks from lasers, grenades, and stubber rounds covered his carapace like craters on a battlefield after a full artillery barrage.

Finally, he spoke, his voice hollow and metallic through the vox amplifier in his helmet, "Identify yourself."

It didn't surprise me that he didn't trust me even though I was wearing a commissar's uniform. After having been repelled by the governor's personal army I would not expect any of the Astartes to be in a very trusting mood. And, to be clear, Astartes didn't trust anybody save their chapter and the Emperor. As far as he was concerned, I was another potential enemy.

"I am Commissar Ariel Abel attached to the Valhallan 597th Ice Warriors and I fight in the Emperor's name," I answered with the hope that a firm, resolute tone would be sufficient to convince him of my loyalties. I never found out if my words had convinced him of the truth as more orks started to close in and the Astartes decided upon a better means to test my loyalties. He quickly grabbed me by the collar and hoisted me up to my feet.

"You fight for the Emperor? Prove it," he ordered and readied his bolter. The first ork that burst through the undergrowth was greeted with a lasbolt between the eyes. We made our stand, shoulder-to-shoulder (actually shoulder-to-hip would be more accurate), firing with unerring precision as greenskins poured forth from the jungle like a nightmare from the abyss. Though we cut them down in droves, the orks pressed on undeterred and I quickly found myself gradually taking steps back to keep a comfortable distance from them. My space marine ally, however, did not budge even when the orks were dropping right at his feet. When his bolter ran dry, he quickly grabbed a power axe that hung from his hip and swung it at the first unlucky bastard to get close to him. Power weapons are a rare sight for members of the Imperial Guard but the effects of their disruption field are not easily forgotten. Normally meant for rending through heavy armour, the effect of the disruption field on a fleshy target was…easiest way to describe would be messy. It's like using a bolt gun to open a soup can. The ork wasn't so much as cleaved in half as it was blown apart from within. He parried the strike from the second ork before hacking off its arm and then lodging his axe within the ork's chest. This freed his hand long enough to reload his bolter. He then grabbed his axe once again and fired a round through the ork's head to knock his weapon free as well as showering the vicinity in pulped brain and bone chips.

With a howl of rage, the Astartes did what few sane men would dare to even consider and charged straight for the oncoming ork mob. Red and blue flashes lit up the jungle as cleaved and blasted his way through the orks. I wish I could have had more time to enjoy the splendor of that whirlwind of blood and fury but I had orks trying to hack me apart at the same time. An ork took a swing at my head but thanks to it being so low to the ground I was able to duck under the jagged-edged blade, which became lodged in the tree behind me. Wasting no time, I swiftly drew out my shock maul, thumbed the power dial to maximum, and slammed it into the ork's gut. There was a most satisfying flash and plume of lightning arcs as the ork howled in pain. The electric-induced spasms released a torrent of bullets from the ork's shoota, spraying rounds across the jungle and into several nearby orks. A second blow to the temple put the ork down for good.

I was making good progress through the ork ranks when I heard an unsettling clang ring out from close by. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of movement and ducked just in time as the space marine crashed through the tree next to me. It was never a good sign when you saw the walking tank getting knocked around like a rag doll. What that meant was that we were now dealing with what was commonly known as a nob, or simply put, an even bigger ork. It was as big as it was angry and thick slabs of metal hung from its body in one of the most primitive (and yet still effective) displays of armour I had ever witnessed. Hanging from the slabs of metal were bleached skulls – some human, some ork, and some I didn't recognize. What caught my eye the most, and likely my Astartes ally, was the broken space marine helmet that was part of the trophy collection. The gunfire died down suddenly and when I saw the orks whooping and howling behind the nob, I realized that the marine had been drawn into a kind of duel with the nob. While counter-intuitive, some orks were capable of understanding concepts beyond 'axe goes in head' and could grasp the more subtle nuances of a duel. Or they simply understood that interrupting a duel meant getting an axe in their head, in which case I would retract my previous statement.

While the proposition of a duel with a nob would have left me scrounging for a clean pair of trousers, the space marine appeared just as eager to test his mettle. What he didn't notice, or didn't care about, was that the lull in the fighting meant that more orks were gathering along the peripheries of the undergrowth. While the Astartes was fixated on his duel I was left worrying about the growing mass or orks that would stomp all over me regardless of how the duel ended. I could have just run for it and let the Astartes deal with the mess he seemed so intent on creating but the thought did not sit well with me. A strategic withdrawal I could live with but there was no rationalizing abandoning a comrade-in-arms, even if I thought his actions were completely asinine.

"We don't have time for this!" I shouted in hopes I could reason with the Astartes. It was a long shot but there were few alternatives available.

"I am not leaving until this wretched ork is dead," he snapped back as he readied his power axe.

"And the other hundred orks?"

"They can wait their turn."

I had heard that Astartes could be stubborn but I hadn't imagined it to be quite to such an extreme degree. I needed a second opinion on the matter but when I tried to raise Cain on the vox network I got no response. Either he had his hands full or he was already dead – either way he was of no help to me. Eventually, I got Colonel Kasteen on the line who was surprised and pleased to hear when I explained that I had made contact with a member of the Astartes strike team.

"You need to get him back to headquarters as soon as possible," Kasteen advised. "The Lord General will definitely want a full debrief from him."

"There might be a slight problem with that plan," I said with a sigh.

"What's the problem?"

"He's in the middle of a duel with an ork nob at the moment." As Kasteen, like any Valhallan, had a thorough understand of ork behaviour and combat tactics, she knew immediately the gravity of the situation when I mentioned duel.

"Is he winning?"

At the moment, my space marine ally was getting knocked around the jungle like a 90-pound whelp on a scrumball pitch. The average space marine could take more punishment than a light armoured vehicle but I doubt even his power armour could take more of the nob's assault. Power weapons needed some time to fully charge, which meant every swing took slightly longer than a non-power weapon. Normally such a lapse meant nothing to a fully-armoured space marine but when the opponent swung a two-hundred pound hammer around with the speed and force of a freight train, even a fraction of a second was too long. "He's probably going to be dead in about a minute," I said plainly.

"Then I suggest you do whatever it takes to get that marine back to headquarters." The importance of the Astartes had not eluded me. As far as we were aware, the space marine was the only survivor of the failed strike force that had assaulted the governor's palace. Our battleplans were based upon orbital scans and old architectural documents drudged up from the Administratum. The tactical insight on the capital city's defenses would be invaluable and could potentially save hundreds of lives in our assault. Even when considering the immediate benefits, the mere presence of a space marine would be a huge morale boost for the soldiers. Even though I had no choice, interfering with the duel ran the risk of personally incurring the marine's wrath. It was a daunting thought considering he could squish my head like an overripe fruit with just as much afterthought.

The other problem with interfering with the duel was enraging the orks, which was a far more immediate problem for me. Searching my surroundings for an alternative, I happened upon a rather chubby tree jelly hanging from a nearby branch. Moving quickly, I snatched the furry creature by it tendrils, whipped it a few times over my head, and flung it right for the ork nob. Even the most battle-frenzied warrior is thrown off their game when a splotch of furry amoeba suddenly latches onto their face and starts dry-humping their eyeballs. The nob roared in blinded rage as he grasped for the audacious amoeba, completely defenseless before the space marine. The power axe flashed and crackled like lightning as the marine drove it into the ork's chest, cleaving through the crude plates with ease. Sparks and blood sprayed across the jungle as the ork let out a monstrous bellow. The marine used the axe as leverage to hoist himself upwards and take hold of a shoulder strap. The nob was able to pull the tree jelly loose just in time to see the space marine bring the axe down upon his head. The power field reduced the nob's noggin to an unrecognizable spray of bloody pulp. The crashing body echoed through the jungle, silencing the entire ork mob who were all left staring agape at the victorious space marine now standing on the nob's chest.

"What's the matter? I thought this was the kind of fight you liked! Any of you other degenerate curs want a piece of me?" the Astartes shouted, which left me sighing in dismay. I should have expected that he wouldn't have left well enough alone. He was a hair's breadth away from goading the entire ork mobbing into rushing us.

It took a moment for some of the orks to work up the courage to step forward but the moment that ork moved a laser bolt burnt a path straight through its skull. The shot took me by completely by surprise as I wasn't the one who shot it nor did I hear a shot. The sudden death spurred more orks to act but every time a greenskin made a move another shot found its mark. After about a half-dozen bodies, the orks began to lose their willingness to fight. The last ounce of courage was shed when a full barrage of lasfire pelted the orks and I was finally able to trace the line of fire back to its source.

"Watz!" I exclaimed when I saw my Kriegan companion, along with Kael and the rest of the squad, firing volleys into the ork mob.

"So this is where you ran off to," Kael commented with a smirk. With the nob dead and a renewed offensive by their foes, the remaining orks fled in absolute terror. For a moment, the Astartes almost looked a little disappointed that they left. The feeling, as you could expect, was his and his alone. While Watz and Kael were relieved to see me in one piece, the rest of the squad's attention was focused on the Astartes. A reaction which came as no surprise whatsoever.

"Sergeant Jydais, I'm surprised to see you here too…I didn't realize you cared," I said sarcastically when the man glanced briefly to me.

"Your lackey ran off with the luminator posts. The techrpriests would have my head on a stick if I lost them," he explained though he sounded a bit like he was deflecting the issue.

When Kael took notice of the space marine, he grinned brightly as he usually did. "So who is your lovely new friend here? Ah, I remember my first jungle rendezvous when I was your age. I would never have pictured you as the romantic type Commissar Abel."

I fought down the urge to rebuke him as that would have only encouraged him further. There were more important issues to address, specifically the space marine, who I turned to address. "Okay Astartes, I have three questions for you but I'm willing to bet you can probably already guess what I want to know." They were the obvious questions, the ones that first sprang to mind when you run into a seven-foot high iron giant in the wilderness. Right after of course, am I going to die.

"I am Battle Brother Garrick of the Black Watch chapter," he introduced himself though his tone made it seem that even this simply gesture was taxing his patience. "My squad was ordered to remove the planetary governor in order to restore this world to the Imperium. Sergeant Mercutio allowed his pride to blind his judgement and he led us straight into a killzone. His final order was to regroup in Vertens but the orks have not been making that journey easy. You will take me to your command center; I need to reestablish contact with the _Enduring Vigilance_."

As blunt as a thunder hammer and just as direct, his mannerisms were everything I had been taught to expect from a space marine. At least he wanted to go to the same place that I was going to insist on taking him.

"Do you know if any more of your squad is nearby?" Kael asked as he kept his eyes scanning through the undergrowth.

"Shamefully, I suspect that I am the only remaining member," Garrick answered, falling silent as he took the broken helmet from the slain ork. "I alone must shoulder the burden of the mission's honour."

"Well you're not alone anymore," I reassured him even though I doubt he thought of me any more than he thought of an automated sentry turret. I was just another tool of the Emperor, which wasn't too far from the truth but it's nice to be considered on a slightly higher pedestal than a socket wrench. "We'll take you back to command but first we're going to need your assistance with extricating the other units that were isolated by the orks outside of the city." Between a vox call and a fight, it was obvious which the Astartes was going to prefer and he was soon following in step along with the rest of the squad. Though not officially ordered to, we headed to Cain's last known position to rescue or recover. I could not reach him on the vox network but there were a number of things aside from 'being dead' that could inhibit communications. Anything from energy fields to being inside an armaplas hut could interfere with the vox signal. I prayed that he was simply too busy to talk.

I suggested using the chimera to shorten our travel but Jydais informed me that it wouldn't be possible as our chimera was having engine troubles, in that there wasn't one anymore. So we were left running through the jungle…again. Kael took point of his own volition, speeding past the entire squad with little difficulty. He ducked and weaved through the undergrowth with such speed and precision you'd swear he knew every inch of it by heart. In fact, if he hadn't needed to keep in sight of us I was certain he would've been moving even faster. The sound of gunfire began to trickle through the undergrowth, subtle thuds and tacks like light raindrops until it became a steady downpour of stubbers and lasguns.

"Contact!" Kael reported, sliding to one knee and snapping a few shots off in one fluid motion.

Our squad fell into position behind the trees, forming a firing line along the right flank of an immobilized tank. Several guardsmen had taken cover behind the tank, including a few wounded, while Cain had taken up position behind the tank's heavy stubber on top of the turret. A third patrol had arrived before us and was already positioned on the tank's left flank. The clearing around the tank was strewn with ork bodies but the charging greenskins were now being pushed back by our addition to the massed gunfire. Garrick, in typical Astartes fashion, rushed straight for the front, trumpeting his arrival with zealous battle cries and bolter fire.

"Never seen a tank like that before," Jydais commented.

"It's a Macharius battle tank, Vanquisher class," Watz explained. "It was the major's vehicle. I thought it would have been fragged like the stormblade."

The Macharius, for the uninitiated, was a heavy battle tank that sat in a weight class intermediate to the baneblade and the Leman Russ. Slightly larger than the Leman Russ but with a chassis more akin to the larger baneblades, the Macharius provided a higher degree of firepower than the former but were far easier to manufacture compared to the latter. The damage to the vehicle was rather light despite the severity of the regiment's last firefight but the left-side treads were shattered, which had led to the crew being pulled from the vehicle and slaughtered.

"Give me covering fire, I'm going over there. Watz – you come with me," I instructed to the sergeant despite my misgivings about trusting my well-being to him. To my surprise, though, his squad did actually provide a degree of suppression fire when my aide and I dashed across the clearing. In hindsight, they could have merely been firing the same as before but at the time it looked as though they had heeded my instructions.

"Commissar Abel, glad to see you could finally join us," Cain shouted from up above. I climbed up the side of the tank and took cover behind the turret just next to the commissar.

"You wouldn't believe the day I've had," I replied. "I'll tell you over a cuppa later but the short of it is I've managed to find an Astartes from the strike team."

"Excellent work; all we've managed to find is this tank."

"Well it is a nice tank, but at least my discovery still works," I teased before putting a shot through an ork that was scaling the side of the tank.

"I wouldn't be too certain of that," Cain informed me before shouting down into the turret, "Jurgen, what's your progress down there?"

"I think I've found the problem, commissar" the dutiful and foul-smelling aide replied, his voice echoing from the depths of the Macharius. "I'm giving the engine another shot." The engine coughed and sputtered a few times but eventually fell silent again followed by a few apologies from the aide. I quickly instructed Watz to lend his technical knowledge to the problem. After a quick shuffling with Cain, my aide was inside and I heard him muttering something about being thankful he was wearing a mask. A couple of minutes later, the same chugging sounds gurgled from the engine before suddenly roaring to life with a belch of black promethium exhaust. A cheer erupted from the nearby guardsmen as the weapon sponsons began spitting heavy bolter rounds into the ork mob. Cain looked quite pleased with himself at this fortunate turn of events.

"Would you care to come inside?" Cain asked.

"I…don't really know much about tanks," I half-lied. At the schola, the basic use and operation of ground vehicles was part of our lessons. It was also a lesson I just barely passed as several of the vehicles were so cramped that they grated on my claustrophobia. The threat of 'death by ork' wasn't high enough to override my apprehensions towards cramped spaces.

"Then could you be a dear and make sure the orks don't try to barge in?" Cain suggested before disappearing into the depths of the vehicle. While being inside the tank was out of the question, sitting at the top behind the heavy stubber was not so I took Cain's former position and vented my frustrations as well as a bunch of orks. Suddenly, the turret lurched to life, swinging to face the ork masses and leaving no doubt as to what was going to happen next. The first of the Macharius' double-barreled vanquisher cannon erupted, blasting a crimon-mist hole out of the ork line.

"Ork nob at 11 o'clock," I shouted to down below. The turret answered by swinging to position and firing its second payload, reducing the nob to a messy pulp across several square meters.

"Abel! Ork tankbusters ahead of you," Kael's voice blasted through my comm-bead. I spotted the aforementioned orks just as a rocket blazed towards me. The instinctive reflex to duck saved my life as the poorly-aimed explosive flew over the tank but missing it so narrowly that I was coughing on the exhaust afterwards. The ork was readying his weapon again but a well-placed shot from a cocky little sniper set off the ordinance, blowing the ork and several of his neighbors into giblets. Though the tank was designed primarily for taking on other armoured vehicles, the sight alone of such a massive vehicle blasting holes through the jungle was enough to break the back of the ork's morale. By targeting the largest ones, Cain and the others inside the tank effectively removed all leadership in the ork mob. By the seventh volley from the vanquisher cannons, the orks were in a complete rout. Most of our guns fell silent, the soldiers simply relieved to see the enemy turning tail at last, save for Garrick who was intent on fighting until there were no orks left to kill. He then proceeded to spend an extra next few minutes making sure the orks remaining were thoroughly dead.

"Splendid work out there men," Cain congratulated as we climbed out of the tank. He turned to me and flashed an equally relieved smile. "Can you believe that somebody just left this lying out here?"

With the enemy routed, we were able to tend to the injured and sent a request in for a pickup. The senior staff were very pleased to hear that Cain had located the Macharius and that it was still partially functional. Repair crews and Trojans were sent later in the day to tow it inside the walls and by the next morning we were able to field the heavy battle tank. It was no stormblade but a Macharius battle tank had the range, armour, and stopping power to go toe-to-toe with the Tau hover tanks. Cain became the hero of the day for his part in reclaiming the Macharius, completely overshadowing my rescue of the space marine.

Not that I am or ever have been bitter about it.

"I wasn't aware that Jurgen knew his way around a vehicle so well," I commented when I saw the aide emerge from the tank. He seemed surprised with the praise but much like Cain he was quite modest towards it and said little more than a quick thanks before offering Cain some tea. I was offered some too but I politely declined as Watz carried his own supply for my use. "You know, it's not too bad out here...minus the smoking craters, chunks of orks, and the smell of burnt propellant," I commented after Watz poured me a cup of recaf. While we waited for the chimeras, I recounted the events of my patrol to Cain, particularly my chance run-in with the Astartes.

"Now that the orks know there's a fight here, they're going to come back, aren't they?" I asked. The better part of me knew the answer to it already but I was reluctant to let go of the faint hope that this would be an isolated incident.

Cain, sadly, shook his head slowly with a long, drawn-out sigh. "The surviving orks will run back to their warboss, who'll then gather up all his troops, and will likely be here in a day or two. The next few days are going to be a very bloody affair."

"Then let them come," Garrick said with the usual Astartes zeal for sanctified murder. "How many regiments do you have deployed?"

"About three full regiments and four at half-strength or less," Cain answered.

"That's it?"

"We had more but even the Emperor's will can't stop the sheer firepower of massed stupidity."

"I'm going to need a lot more bolter rounds then," Garrick said calmly, as if slaughtering his way through the entire ork horde and Tau army was only a minor inconvenience for him. But for an Astartes, there wasn't any problem that couldn't be solved without the liberal application of unrepentant violence.

The arrival of several chimeras was met with much fanfare by the troops. The first two were quickly loaded with the wounded and sent off before we got organized to load into the rest. Garrick didn't enjoy having to cram into the chimera's tight passenger compartment but once he was in they opened the roof hatch for him so he could stand comfortably. We were loading the last of the troops when I noticed that Kael wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Kael, we're leaving! Where in blazes are you?" I shouted in hopes that he hadn't wandered off. Thankfully, he had merely taken up residence in a nearby tree to keep on watch. The moment I called out he immediately dropped into view. However, as he drew closer he abruptly stopped and stepped back, his face suddenly paler and a slightly sickened look across his face.

"Sweet Emperor! What is that smell?" he exclaimed. Between the orks, the smoking craters, and the tank's engine exhaust, it took me a moment to realize the source of Kael's concern stemmed from Cain's malodourous aide.

"You get used to it," I reassured him. "You can ride in one of the other chimeras." Strangely enough, that didn't do much to help Kael who still didn't move any closer and seemed even more ill than moments before. My patience quickly ran thin. "Come on, you're holding the rest of us up. Suck it up and get moving."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Kael blurted before rushing from sight. I knew from first-hand experience that Jurgen's odour could be quite unsettling to the uninitiated but I had never seen such a violent reaction from somebody, especially at such a distance. Compared to the average person my sense of smell was a bit blunted so I had trouble understanding Kael's situation. Nonetheless, when he ran off and we heard gagging sounds seconds later, I decided to go after him. He was, in the end, my responsibility. I found him a short distance off; leaning against a tree over a pile of what I assumed was once breakfast. He seemed better off now that we was a safe distance from Jurgen but if that was going to be his reaction every time he came near Cain's aide, he was going to be a bigger nuisance than before.

"This is pathetic," I remarked with a hint of contempt. "You call yourself a soldier?"

"No…I don't actually," Kael said between long, deep breaths. "Everyone else does but I never did. I have never even liked being one. I only joined because the feral orks were threatening to overrun everything. Shooting stuff…killing people…almost getting killed…I've never wanted to be a part of that. For Emperor's sake, I make furniture and little statues for tourists! I can barely keep my stomach down when downwind from an ork."

"Is…everything okay?" I asked since his response had come as a bit of a surprise. I knew he had no desire to get involved in our campaign but I was unaware of his general antipathy towards being a soldier in general. I might have construed it as cowardice or an equally punishable offense but it would have reflected badly on me to 'recommended' somebody , then turn around the next day and order his execution.

"This is nothing that doesn't normally come with having to franticly fight for your life," he sighed in response. "I'm just…frustrated. It feels like the more I try to get away from fighting the more it tries to force its way back into my life."

"Well you have a responsibility and an obligation to serve and protect, especially when you have the capacity to do it so well." He must have taken my remarks as a compliment because he smirked initially in response. Or he thought there was something funny about what I said.

"That's exactly what she used to say," he said before shaking his head with a quiet chuckle.

"Is this the part where you make a long-winded confession about your childhood sweetheart who went off to war and died on the frontlines?" I jived since I was still feeling impatient and had little time for sob stories. Half the soldiers in the Imperial Guard had similar tales to share and almost everybody in the 597th had a relation with somebody else in the regiment at one point or another. The sentiment was universal and I disliked how some thought it made them special.

"Noooo," Kael insisted, sounding more like his usual, arrogant self. "For starters it was my wife. Secondly…I lost her to war long before she was killed. It's one thing to watch somebody you love die suddenly on the field, it's another to watch them die slowly over the years…but that's another story for another day. So yes, woe is me – I don't like being a soldier because I loved and lost one. It's not very original, I know, but it's my reason and I'm sticking to it."

"Well as long as you're not trying to win sympathy from me or anything."

"Sympathy? From a commissar? I'd have more hope of getting lucky on a first date with an orkette, or whatever they're called. You know what I mean."

By the time we returned to the chimera, Cain and his aide had already left. It was a good thing too since I had no interest in cleaning puke off my boots. My ride back into the city was quiet due my thoughts lingering on Kael. I mulled over Kael's words for a long time. It did not make sense for a man to be such a skilled soldier and yet have such a thorough distaste for it. Yes he was a good shot and scout from his years of hunting and skulking through the jungle but that didn't explain how he could handle himself so calmly in the heat of a full-blown ork attack. That level of discipline only came from intense training and a person didn't dedicate that many years of training to something they hated. He was hiding something from me, that much was obvious, but why...


	14. FOURTEEN

**FOURTEEN**

_A Note from the Author: I realize that the only thing duller than sitting through a meeting is having to read about somebody else sitting through a meeting. But I feel that it's important for your understanding of the events that resulted from the decisions of this meeting. The official records of the campaign only report the end results and have overlook the vital role that our decision-making had on obtaining those results. , Sound decision-making, prior to and while in battle, is what differentiates winning tactics from pure insanity. I'm still not sure which category ours would fall into._

With the sheer frequency of briefings, debriefings, and meetings being held, it was hard for anyone to believe that there was any degree of urgency in the life-or-death struggle we were facing. If the world were to end the next day (which it very could for all we knew), we would still be in meetings to ensure that our deaths were done in a timely fashion. As one black-humoured guardsman so aptly quipped, "the senior staff will be thirty minutes late for their own deaths. They're delayed in a meeting." Upon our return to the command center, the Astartes insisted on having access to the comm system to contact the frigate in orbit. His hour-long conversation gave Cain and I time to grab something to eat while we waited around the conference table with the Lord-General and a few other senior officers. Word about Cain's involvement in the recovery of the Macharius battle tank had already reached command by the time we had arrived so he had to spend the next several minutes modestly deflecting all the praise shoveled onto him. I didn't even get so much as a 'good job' from any of them.

"Do we know anything about this Black Watch chapter?" Kasteen asked. As a space marine, Garrick's loyalty and dedication were beyond reproach but it was not uncommon for chapters to utilize tactics that ran counter to the modus operandi of an Imperial Guard regiment. Some chapters were notorious for being trigger-happy with their authorizations for Exterminatus. I, for one, did not come half way across the segmentum just to have a single Astartes decide that the planet would look better as a crater-ridden dustball. The Lord-General's concern was not about loyalty but about his willingness to cooperate, which was a sentiment shared by the rest of us.

"Not a lot but we don't exactly carry a library around," Zyvan replied as he picked up a dataslate and looked through its contents. With hundreds upon hundreds of chapters in operation, the average soldier wouldn't know the difference from one chapter to the next. Judging by the blank looks around the table, this was the first time anybody had even heard of the Black Watch chapter. "They're a relatively young chapter with origins tracing back to the Raven Guard. They usually operate in small numbers and prefer covert ops rather than open combat. According to reports it's rare to see them ever field more than a company to any given operation. Beyond that, it's pure speculation and conjecture."

"In the end, what's more important is this particular marine's temperament," Cain added before turning his attention to me. "Space marines rarely retreat and never admit defeat so this one will continue to fight. The question remains is whether he'll fight where we need him. Commissar Abel, you've spent the most time with him. What is your opinion of the space marine?"

While Cain was correct that I had spent the most time with our guest, trying to gather a sense of character from a space marine was like squeezing blood from a rock. Still, when the request came from a Lord-General, the only respectable response was to grab a vice-grip and get to work. "He made a comment about bearing the burden of the mission's honour. That would suggest that in his mind, there is a greater sense of priority on the mission's success. Then again, he did fight a nob solely on personal honour so it's hard to say where his priorities lie. Still, I believe that without any other space marines to assist him, he recognizes that he has no other option but to cooperate with us if he wishes to return to his chapter with honour. If you don't mind me asking, Lord-General, what exactly do you have planned for the Astartes?"

Even though he was worth a full squad of troopers, Garrick was still, nonetheless, a single soldier. I was too pragmatic to believe that one space marine could change the tide of an entire campaign. He might improve morale and help win some firefights but we had planned to fight and win back this planet without any assistance from the Adeptus Astartes and I was still confident that we could without Garrick's help. I'd eventually eat those words but with a fair bit of chewing they weren't too hard to swallow.

"For the time being, I want him at the front of any major offensive. His valour will hopefully inspire others," Zyvan answered, which was a clever way of saying that he had nothing particular in mind. Our conversation regarding Garrick came to an abrupt end when we heard the distinctive thud of walking power armour, which soon preceded the marine's arrival. He approached and stood at the edge of the table, refraining from using a chair as his weight would have made short work of it. He was without his helmet, revealing a still youthful-looking face that betrayed the true extent of his experience. His features were marred only by a few small scars running along the right side of his face and the metallic stud upon his brow signified his century of service to his chapter.

Garrick did not waste any time in addressing us. "As I had suspected, the sensors aboard the Vigilance confirm that I am the only surviving member from my squad. They have relayed my message to the nearest strike cruiser requesting for reinforcements. However, they are quite a distance away and will likely not arrive in time to assist with the bulk of the fighting. Since I have no intention of leaving with my mission unfulfilled, I will commit myself to assisting in your campaign against the Tau occupiers. Bare in mind, however, that I am not under your authority in any way and I will go where I feel I am most needed."

"We are well aware of the autonomy of the Adeptus Astartes," Zyvan replied politely and unsurprised by Garrick's last words. "Your assistance in any way will be of great assistance. If you do not mind, there are some questions that you could perhaps shed some light to. First and foremost, we want to know what happened in the planetary capital."

"I expected as much," Garrick sighed quietly. No doubt drudging up details of a failed assault was not a pleasant experience. Most people I know hate to admit to mistakes, much less explain them to an audience. "Our mission was to return this planet to the Emperor by removing the governor by whatever means necessary. When we made our assault, however, the Tau were waiting for us."

The Astartes seemed almost as surprised by our reaction as we were of this revelation. Our intelligence said that the governor had turned to the Tau after the failed assault by the Astartes, not before. I can't speak for the others present but the news had changed my opinion of the governor – I thought he had been merely a good man forced into a horrible position by devious xenos; instead, he had sided with the Tau before the Imperium had come for him.

"It seems that the good governor was not as resolute in his defiance as we had been led to believe," Wren said sarcastically.

"How did we not know about this from the intelligence briefs?" Zyvan asked.

"Likely because the Tau did not make their presence known until after our assault failed," Garrick continued. "Our vessel was the first to arrive in the system. The Govenor was still broadcasting his distress so he must of assumed we had arrived to assist in removing the xenos. We were able to enter orbit without incident. Brother-Sergeant Mercutio decided that we could use their assumption that we had arrived to assist in order to bypass the governor's defenses. Normally I would not object to using such deception in order to accomplish mission objectives but everything about the situation felt wrong. When I voiced my concern, he dismissed them. He said if we went in with our intents clear, the governor would run and we might never catch him. Mercutio was blinded by arrogance; he thought once the governor was dead, his troops would "scatter and flee like cowards."

"I take it your Brother-Sergeant did not consider that the governor's personal troops were Cadian stormtroopers of the 212th?" Cain quipped. "I've read through some of their records – they've had numerous campaigns against heretics and the Ruinous Powers. They wouldn't have been intimidated by you - no offense."

"Indeed they weren't," Garrick answered. "When we exited from the Thunderhawk, they came out of hiding, both xeno and heretic. I will hand it to the governor though. He knew we were coming to kill him and still he came out to meet us face-to-face. He told us he would not be branded a traitor for protecting his people and that the Imperium had turned its back on him and his people first. Brother-Sergeant Mercutio did not care and ordered us to attack. We were surrounded and heavily outgunned but Mercutio still thought he could end it quickly by taking out the governor. He charged Gavilant…and that's when the governor killed him."

"That old fart killed an Astartes?" I exclaimed, summing up everybody's reaction to the news.

"Power fists," he explained. "Hidden beneath his cloak; probably crafted by a master artificer. Mercutio didn't see them until it was too late. They ripped through his power armour like it was nothing."

Garrick's debrief left a feeling of emptiness in my spirit. They were the Adeptus Astartes – the very best of the Imperium. The notion that they might not be as infallible as their legends foretold left me wondering what else was a dramatic exaggeration. After the somewhat depressing story, Garrick went into detail as he explained the defensive layout of the palace and the rest of the capital city, or at least the parts he saw. According to Garrick, the palace itself was protected from aerial attacks with several Hydra batteries and numerous autocannon and lascannon emplacements ensure that anybody trying a frontal assault would be met with heavy cross fire. In preparation for potential assaults, much of the foliage around the governor's palace was also removed and replaced with dragon's teeth, forcing attackers to cross open fields on foot with minimal cover. Much of the city was bunkered down with gun emplacements in almost every building, especially the main roads, and the main highway to the city was pre-sighted by heavy guns and mortar batteries. The jungles were rigged with mines and traps and the Kroot made regular patrols. All in all, none of the information came as a surprise since it was the kind of attention to detail that an Imperial general would be expected to give. The city was locked down tightly and well-defended. If our armoured regiment had been at full strength an assault would have been difficult but not impossible; at current strength they would be wiped out before getting through the gates. Garrick's brief confirmed all our fears about the odds of a frontal assault.

However given what I would eventually go through, charging the front gates might have been preferable.

"Unfortunately, we will have to put even our alternate strategy on hold thanks to our Astartes friend who led the orks straight to our front door," commented a Kastaforian officer. "By this time tomorrow we're going to be swimming in greenskins. Even if we do survive the orks, we might not have enough troops afterwards to mount a sufficient offensive against the Tau. This entire operation hinged on us being able to act swiftly in order to secure the planet and now we are going to be slowed down by these orks until we grind to a complete halt!"

"True servants of the Emperor should rejoice at having more enemies to kill, not cower in fear of it," Garrick snapped back as he took obvious offense at the officer's remarks. "And for your information, those orks were outside the city when I arrived. My approach from their flanks took them by surprise."

"Are you certain those orks were moving in on the city and weren't just trying to box you in?" Cain asked taking a more cautious approach.

"If they were trying to box me in, they were facing the wrong way. Even Orks aren't that stupid."

A few officers hummed and pondered the implications of Garrick's words and most simply resigned to the fact that this meant the orks were just going to be yet another obstacle for us. We came prepared to meet them but we had hoped to have more time and a lot more tanks to do it with. Cain, however, was the only one to pick up on a more subtle implication. I saw him scratching his chin, his mind working in that mysterious way that could pick out the smallest clues and piece them together. "Lord-General, do we have any ships in scanning range of our surrounding area," he asked.

"No, without being able to take position over the contested space our ships are too far to make such a scan," he replied.

"Actually, I can order my frigate to make a low-orbit pass using a Thunderhawk. It should be fast enough to get a quick sweep of the area before the Tau are able to respond in force," Garrick offered. Cain agreed to the recommendation and the two headed off to the vox operator to make the necessary arrangements. It would take slightly over an hour to finish so I used the opportunity to get something to drink. During the interim while we waited for news on Garrick's Thunderhawk, Cain took me aside to discuss a private matter on a subject that I had been meaning to talk to him about.

"It's about Kael," Cain said once we stepped outside the briefing room.

"You don't trust him either, do you?" I interjected after I gathered the clues to his intent from his tone and the subject matter. He nodded in agreement.

"Something doesn't seem right about him," he explained. "Did anything about his behaviour strike you as out of place?"

"He says he hates violence but he's too good and far too familiar with it. He hides behind a clown face but that could just be an unrelated personality quirk. Still, he's hiding something from us but I don't think it's a matter of loyalty. There were plenty of opportunities for him to disappear or ditch us when we were on patrol but he stayed with us throughout it…and he nailed a lot of orks that would have hacked somebody apart. I don't know what it is but it seems odd that he would be so avoidant to it. You're good at reading people – what do you think?"

"I have my suspicions but I think it's best to keep them to myself for now. He's definitely good at reading people too so I don't want you to inadvertently tip him off. For now, just keep a close eye on him. It might be nothing but it might also be everything and I don't want to be caught off-guard at a critical moment."

"Maybe…you should keep an eye on him. I mean, you are better at judging people and since you apparently know what to look for…"

"No," he cut me off. "It'll be better if you do it. If he's hiding something, he'll be on his guard around me. Plus, I doubt he'd last very long around Jurgen's aroma judging by his previous reaction."

"Heh, good point," I said with a slight chuckle. "Well, you can count on me, sir. I'll let you know if I see anything suspicious."

Our conversation was cut short as we were summoned back to the briefing room with the news that Garrick's ship was almost in position. While I had my suspicions as to what Cain had in store for us, I was more curious as to why and to what end. Since I didn't want to ruin Cain's opportunity to upstage the officers with another display of his genius, I merely waited in eager silence. The hololithic map of the surrounding region was still present over the table but I imagined that was going to change soon enough.

"Is everything ready?" Cain asked upon our arrival.

"The data should be coming in momentarily," replied Garrick. "The Thunderhawk will be making a low-orbital pass over the region and will do a scanning sweep of the area. It'll only paint a single image of the area since the Tau are already en route to chase it off. It took a lot to convince the pilot not to engage."

"What good does a single sweep do us? We won't be able to track the enemy's movement and at such a high orbit we won't get enough detail for an accurate count," an officer questioned, which Cain had anticipated. He merely instructed the officer to have faith and patience. A few minutes later, the map began to flicker with new life as red blotches began to appear through the entire forest. Given the ork's general lack of technology, the easiest way to detect their numbers was via a thermal sweep. The resolution was crap but it gave an idea of how much of the jungle they had spread across. What was most interesting about the scan, and what I suspect Cain had anticipated, was that the sea of red extended all the way from our walls to that of the planetary capital.

"The orks," Cain began just in case some of us were too dim to put the pieces together, "are pressing on the Tau-controlled city as well. This would explain why none of our patrols encountered any sign of the Tau forces that threatened us earlier and it is likely why they were so willing to pull out of the battle despite having almost secured victory. Even divided, the orks have enough numbers to seriously threaten our positions."

"Well that's good then," said the same doubtful officer from before. "The Tau and the Orks will weaken themselves in their fight. All we need to do is mop up the surviving faction when it's over."

"Assuming we live long enough to do that," I stepped in since I could tell what Cain was leading to. "Even then, it'll be ugly. If the Tau win, it means they've got a lot of firepower on their side and will likely still have enough to roll us over in our weakened state. They have the advantage of range and a jungle that's laden with Kroot and traps. If the Orks somehow win, I'd hate to imagine what they could do with all the weapons they loot from the Tau and PDF forces."

"Orks using Tau weapons? That's a preposterous idea," said our nay-sayer once again.

"I've seen ork looters restore and operate a baneblade in only a few hours," Major Currae interjected. "We need highly trained crews to do that…they're able to do it without even cracking open the owner's manual, much less reading it. Personally, I'd rather not wait to see the kind of damage a thousand orks armed with Tau plasma rifles and railguns could do. I suspect the commissars would rather avoid that situation." Cain and I nodded in unison. If the Orks had looted a bunch of Imperial plasma weapons I would be less concerned since Orks don't keep very good care of their weapons and poorly kept plasma weapons tend to explode. Tau guns apparently don't suffer from that problem

Lord-General Zyvan, who had remained silent during the whole debate, finally raised a hand to silence the bickering officers. He looked to be deep in thought and mulling over unpleasant thoughts. Finally he spoke, "I would like all the officers to leave for a moment. I would like to speak with just the commissars." While the younger officers looked a bit surprised, the veterans went without hesitation. It wasn't uncommon for a command officer to dismiss all but the commissars. We provided a safe means to bounce ideas that might be unsavory for the officers to hear even mentioned. It added more weight to my previous suspicions and it showed how attuned he and Cain were in terms of tactical analysis. Garrick didn't budge an inch, which was no surprise since you couldn't order an Astartes to do anything he didn't want to already. Once all the officers were gone, Zyvan let out a long sigh while keeping his eyes transfixed on the map. "You really think this is the best course of action Cain?" he asked after a long silence.

"It's not the one I like but I think it might be the only one that'll achieve us victory," Cain reassured him.

"What are you implying exactly?" Stimpsen butted in since he was too oblivious to have any idea what was being debated.

"He wants to propose a temporary alliance with the Tau," Wren explained with a hint of irritation in his voice. "What you're suggesting, Lord-General, is not only potentially blasphemous but borderline treasonous. These are xenos and it is our duty to purge them from this world, not work with them."

"I'm not suggesting we start swapping spit with them Commissar Wren," Zyvan snapped back since he didn't take too kindly to having his loyalty questioned. "However, the only chance we might have of being able to push them off this world is by joining up with them so we can push the orks off first. Once we've dealt with the orks we can go back to killing each other."

"And how receptive do you think the Tau will be?" asked the Kastaforian commissar. He sounded undecided at the moment so at least he was considering the idea. "If we go asking them for help it could reveal just how weak our forces are."

"The Tau left the battle yesterday because they needed to defend the planetary capital from the orks. It is likely that the Tau forces are just as hard-pressed as we are, especially considering the casualties we inflicted on them," Cain explained politely as to maintain the commissar's favour. "From the looks of the map, the orks are more focused on the Tau than us, so I suspect they will be more than eager to lose us as an enemy, even for a short while. Coordinating an offensive against the Orks will make things easier for both of us and if we do hold back a little and let the Tau handle the bulk of the offensive then all the more to us."

"Also, there's a good chance that the orks could overrun both our positions," I threw in for support. "At least with the Tau, if we fail then another fleet can come in and finish the job. With the orks…well, this place will be a sea of green in more ways than one by the time another battlefleet arrived."

"And if that happens, I will have to send a recommendation to my captain for an Exterminatus – this world is too close to Imperial space to be an ork breeding ground," Garrick added. It was an unnecessary point to add but a valid one. Nonetheless, the Kastaforian commissar was on board with the idea, which meant the Lord-General had the support of the majority of the commissars, which provided a safety net should Wren and Stimpsen send their complaints higher up the chain of command.

"Still, even presuming we can trust the bluies long enough to not shoot us in the back the second we turn our back, which I don't, how can we even be certain that they will believe us?" Wren asked in another attempt to punch holes through the idea. All eyes focused on the Lord-General for a moment, before his eyes turned to Cain (who looked as though he was expecting it).

"They know who I am so it would be safe to assume that they probably know what happened on Gravalax. If that's the case then we might be able to use that to get them to listen," Cain explained, one hand stroking his chin in thought.

"I think you're over-estimating the extent of your reputation," Wren muttered though it was quite audible.

"Right now what we need is that reputation," I said jumping to Cain's defense. "He hasn't had much contact with the Tau but what little he has will work in our favour. Hopefully, when the Tau commander heard of his presence, he went to find what information he could about Cain and turned up the incident at Gravalax. That might be enough to get them to sit down and listen for a minute and from there all we'll need to do is convince them that this is best for their so-called 'Greater Good.'"

"You make that last part sound so simple," Wren scoffed. He folded his arms across his chest in resignation. He must have realized at that point there was little use in arguing with the rest of us. Cain had thought his plan out very thoroughly and I trusted he knew what he was doing. Nonetheless, Wren's comment was actually a valid point – convincing the Tau they needed us wasn't going to be easy. In fact, it was a lot harder than any of us had imagined.

Making contact with the Tau was to be the easiest step in the whole process. With both armies utilizing the old PDF installations as bases of operation, there still existed the old communication lines between the major outposts. Our ground forces all operated on vox casters we brought along but apparently the major outposts had underground wires to create a reliable network that wouldn't be disrupted by most conventional jammers. Originally we had concerns about it being potentially used by our spy to send information to the enemy. Currae insisted that the system was kept under tight surveillance by a security team but that did little to allay our fears.

General Zyvan invited the senior officers back in to inform them of his decision, which stirred up the expected amount of confusion and indignation. Once explained, though, they began to warm up to the idea. Thankfully, officers were easier to convince since they had to listen to us and most were willing to toe the lines of religious dogma in order to complete the mission. The Catachans were the most reluctant to play along since they had been fighting against the Tau the hardest so it was understandably difficult for them to start thinking of the Tau as potential allies. They responded to the notion of fighting against the Tau and orks with the usual heroic rhetoric and chest-pounding you'd expect from men who ate shrapnel and crapped bullets every day. To absolutely no one's surprise, Cain was volunteered to be the one to make contact with the Tau since his name would be the most likely to elicit a response. Once Major Currae got the landline vox online, the room fell into silence with Cain standing calmly over the receiver.

"So how do you think I should start? A 'hello, how are you today?' or maybe just straight to the point?" Cain asked jokingly, rousing chuckles from most of the officers. After a moment Cain motioned for everybody to settle down and he tapped on the 'transmit' rune. He took a deep, calming breath before speaking, "This is Commissar Ciaphas Cain speaking on behalf of His Divine Majesty's Imperial Guard. I request to immediately speak with the Tau military commander Shas'O Tau Lar'shi." He paused for a moment in hopes of a hasty response but all he got was a long, dull hum of dead air. While it was entirely possible that there was simply nobody on the other end of the line to receive, the chances that the enemy wasn't monitoring the channels seemed highly unlikely. It was more probable that they simply didn't believe that we would transmit anything other than pronouncements regarding their impending death or that the Hero of the Imperium was suddenly calling for a brief chin-wag about the weather. Undeterred, Cain tried his hand again but making more use of his uncanny gift with words. "Listen, I can understand if you're a little too busy to show the simple courtesy of answering. You've probably got a couple hundred orks trying to climb over your walls right now and that would take up the bulk of anybody's attention. By the way, I hope you have that western approach well reinforced because it does look like there's a lot of greenskins amassing there. Now we understand if you'd rather just focus on staying alive but it would probably serve the Greater Good if the ork threat were dealt with in a swift fashion before it got out of hand. We stand a better chance of accomplishing that task if we cooperate but I'm going to need a sign that I'm not just talking to myself here." Again, he paused and waited for some kind of response and was again met by dead air. I began to wonder if perhaps the Tau really were too busy fighting off the orks to listen. "Well, maybe you're just too busy dying to care. That's perfectly okay with us. In fact, it would serve our Greater Good if you did die and in rather large quantities but the way I see it, the path I'm proposing will solve both our problems with fewer casualties. You're probably reluctant to believe that I would give a damn about the lives of any of your soldiers and I so you should…but you know who I am and you know the weight my words carry. This is a one-time offer so when I hit this 'off' rune in ten seconds this offer and I are gone." Cain started counting down and his finger hovered over the deactivation rune as though he were in some dramatic holo-vid.

If he were in a holo-vid, the response would have come at the last second just before Cain hit the rune. In the far less dramatic fashion of the real world, a response came before Cain had counted to five. "I am here Commissar Ciaphas Cain," a voice replied with a firm tone, yet mixed with an eloquence that felt wholly alien to my ears. Even through the machine's distortion and static I recognized it as the voice belonging to the Tau pilot that killed Waffans (unless they all sounded the same, which at the time I didn't know if it were true or not).

"This is Shas'O Tau Lar'shi?" Cain asked to confirm.

"That is correct," Lar'shi replied. "Your bargaining position is highly dubious Commissar. You speak of Tau'va but I doubt you know its true meaning. But for whose sake do you extend this offering of peace? Yours? Your general's? Your Emperor's?"

Cain fell silent for a moment. Clearly Lar'shi was testing the sincerity of our intentions and was rightly suspicious of it. Diplomacy is great when it keeps me out of the line of fire but it's a difficult tool to use when both sides suspect the other will betray them at any moment. Cain had to convince the Tau commander that we wanted this for the right reason – something that would coincide with their Greater Good. Cain was clearly mincing his words very careful as the outcome of the war hinged on them.

"For the sake of the citizens of this world," Cain finally answered. Life imitated the holo-vids as we were left in utter silence as we waited for a response.

After what felt like an eternity of holding our breath, an answer came. "There is a staging area in sector 5-1 by 8-2. You will go there Commissar and you will bring your general."

"Do you really believe we're gullible enough to just walk into a meeting area where you could already have a dozen snipers and tanks ready?" Cain remarked.

"You may come in one of your transports with as many soldiers that will fit into it. I promise that weshall do the same. The meeting will be in six hours. Now if you will excuse me, I have some…greenskins to kill."

With that, the line went dead. Concerned glances were exchanged amongst the officers as well as murmurs of distrust of the xeno's words. I didn't trust the Tau either but it was difficult to fault them for their reasoning since they likely thought the same of us. We could not dismiss the possibility that we would be greeted by the business end of a hammerhead's railgun but were we so inclined we could have a Vanquisher battle tank waiting for the Tau. The Lord-General quickly found the location on our hololithic map and magnified the view.

"It's big and open," Cain said to point out the obvious. "It's right off the highway through so we'll be able to see somebody approaching or whoever might be waiting for us."

The staging area designated as the meeting point consisted primarily of a large open rockrete courtyard with a few buildings along the perimeter but a clear view of the passing highway. As Cain said, nobody would be able to make an approach with a vehicle and not be seen from a safe distance. It seemed as though the Tau had taken our distrust into consideration – which was awfully nice of them. It allayed some of our fears but it didn't erase the possibility of an ambush. However, with orks and xenos on both sides it would be impossible to avoid some risk so the decision was, as always, up to the Lord-General.

"If this is the only way to get the Tau to play along then I will go," Zyvan said firmly with a strange hint of a smile at the corner of his lip. I think a part of him liked the idea of leading from the front for a change. As a Lord General he spent most campaigns at the very back behind layers of defenses. This outing would mark the first time he's been at the very front-end of our forces in many years.

"I will accompany you as well," Garrick interrupted. "If allying with Tau will ensure this planet will be returned to Imperial hands then I shall stand with you."

"Going to be a tight fit in the chimera with you," the Lord-General commented though he was smiling in appreciation of the extra muscle. "But they said we can bring as much as we can fit. If Cain stays in the turret and his aide drives, we should be able to fit the myself, the Astartes, and about seven or eight guards into a chimera. That should be more than enough," Zyvan said confidently as he rose from the table. "Commissar Cain, I leave the organization of the security detail to you. The rest of you are dismissed. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go talk to my aide to see about getting my armour dusted off – hopefully it still fits."

* * *

While the Tau had insisted that only one transport be used to bring the Lord-General and his honour guard to the meet site, there had been no stipulation that additional transports could not be used to escort the Lord-General's vehicle along the highway. Since we didn't want to push our luck with our liberal interpretation of the Tau's instructions, the Lord-General instructed us to hold back a safe distance once we were in view of the meet site. It was close enough so the Tau would know that reinforcements were available but not close enough to pose an immediate threat. I was given the task of leading the escort team, which consisted of Watz, Kael, and I in the centaur, a squad of sentinels, a Leman Russ tank, and a chimera full of stormtroopers. Despite my misgivings about Kael, I did not want to leave him out of my sight.

"We've just arrived at the rendezvous point," Cain's voice buzzed through my comm-bead. "There's no sign of the Tau yet or anybody else for that matter. Do you see anything from your position Commissar Abel?"

The centaur's lower profile compared to the other escort vehicles made it the most difficult to see from a distance. With that in mind, I kept the centaur a short distance ahead of the others to keep on look-out. Since I was still sweeping the horizon I did not answer right away until my amplivisor settled on a cluster of movement in the distance. The dull yellow hull plating of Tau hovertanks were hard to miss even from a distance even from a brief glance it appeared that the Tau were using similar interpretations of our agreement.

"I've spotted a convoy of Tau armour moving towards the meet site," I reported. "I count two hammerheads, a skyray, three devil fish transports, and three battlesuits. Maybe you guys should consider pulling back."

"Negative Commissar Abel," Zyvan answered instead. "The Tau chose this place because it's easy to see any incoming forces so they wouldn't be trying something so obvious. If they keep advancing as a whole let us know, otherwise we keep to the plan." The Lord-General's instincts were correct. Not long after his reply, the Tau convoy came to a halt, save for a single devil fish that continued on its way towards the rendezvous point. I passed on the information and continued to monitor the rest of the Tau convoy.

Beside me, Kael was following suit, using his rifle's scope to watch the Tau's movement. He chuckled slightly and commented, "I think they've spotted us. There's a Tau looking at us with some device. Wait, correction: he has spotted us. And…he's waving to us too." Even with the bend in the highway and its retaining walls, I had little doubt that we would be spotted quickly but a part of me had hoped it would have lasted a little longer.

"Might as well be polite and wave back then," I instructed with a smirk. It seemed some of the Tau had a sense of humour as well…they were giving us the xeno-equivalent of the one-fingered salute. I monitored the vox chatter to keep appraised of the situation down below, which appeared to be going smoothly. For a pleasant change, it wasn't pouring rain outside though the looming clouds threatened the possibility. "So Kael, how long were you in the PDF?" I asked out of pure boredom. I didn't completely trust him but that didn't mean I couldn't have a simple conversation with him. It had the added benefit of getting a better feel of what kind of person he was, which could make it easier to figure out what he was hiding.

"About seven standard years plus a few extra as a reservist but I never got called up," he answered without taking his eye away from his scope. "I bet you're wondering how somebody who seems to hate being a soldier is so darn good at shooting people, right?"

"Uh…the thought had crossed my mind," I lied. I was a little unnerved at how quickly he saw through me and the brief glance he shot at me suggested that he saw through the lie even faster. The man was as perceptive as Cain had cautioned me, which was already making me regret bringing the topic up.

"It's a long story but I'll make you a promise," Kael said, apparently indulging my curiosity. "If we make it through this alive, I'll tell you whole thing."

"Deal. But you better not go run off and die on me now."

"Wouldn't dream of it ma'am. For starters, I happen to like living a great deal and…wait a minute, the Tau vehicles are on the move. They look like they're in a hurry."

Before I got a chance to ask Kael to clarify, panicked shouts started ringing over the vox network. Distinct amongst the voices was Cain's, shouting for people to get down or take cover. I cursed angrily under my breath as I signaled to the vehicles behind me to get ready to double-time it. "Cain, the Tau convoy is heading towards you!"

"Good," he replied, his tone filled with adrenaline.

"Good? Cain, they'll get there before us."

"As long as somebody gets here soon. We're under heavy fire and they've already taken out the devil fish."

"Wait, the Tau aren't shooting at you?"

"No! It's the Adumbrians and they're shooting at everybody!"


	15. FIFTEEN

FIFTEEN

The news of the apparent betrayal by the Adumbrians briefly left me in stunned silence. I had a hard time swallowing the truth and it felt like ground glass tearing my insides apart as I slowly digested the reality of their actions. It wasn't so much the betrayal that stunned me but the realization that somebody with a functioning forebrain could actually be that bloody stupid. Perhaps my mind relied too much on empirical evidence but I couldn't think of a sound tactical reason for the sudden betrayal. If their aim was to become enemies with every army on the planet then they were doing a fantastic job. Very rarely have rage and confusion held a meet-and-greet in my mind and so consuming was my anger that I hadn't noticed that I was repeatedly muttering 'what the frak?' until Watz pointed it out.

"You mind letting us in on what's getting your knickers in such a twist?" Watz asked impatiently as he began revving the engine. I hadn't realized that Cain had contacted me over the commissarial frequencies so I was the only one in the convoy that knew what was happening. "You look like you're about ready to kill somebody and, quite frankly, if it's me I'd like to know so I can get a head start on running away."

Hatred and confusion were pushed aside as the realities of command took root. I had to get the convoy moving if Cain and the Lord-General were to have any hope of getting out alive. "All forces, we have a situation; our people and the Tau are under attack by the Adumbrians. Whatever their reason, they're about to learn the penalty for betraying the will of the the Emperor. I want the sentinels to sweep in from the side entrance and hit the traitorous bastards from the flank – draw their fire away from the Lord-General. Everybody else will follow me up the center. And loyal guardsmen…whatever noble-sounding excuse they have for their betrayal, I'm not interested in hearing. Give them a traitor's death and show them how real guardsmen fight!"

Considering the Adumbrians were about as popular as a Chaos uprising I could have told the men that the 'last one in buysthe next round' and they would have charged in with just as much zeal and fury. With shouts of acknowledgments from the sentinels, the walkers sprinted past us while the rest of us started on our way to the main entrance. As speed was paramount I told Watz to floor it and we left the tank and transport in a cloud of promethium exhaust.

"I know new regiments have their growing pains but it's a bit early to be in the rebellious juvie phase don't you think?" Kael commented light-heartedly as though the whole situation was just another joke to him. He was either very well-adjusted or simply didn't take the situation seriously enough.

"This doesn't make any sense, what do you they hope to gain by doing this?" Watz asked.

I doubt he was expecting any kind of answer since he did have a habit of talking to himself but I felt inclined to speak up regardless. It was the sort of thing commissars were expected to do. "Commissars Wren and Stimpsen weren't exactly thrilled with our plan to strike a deal with the Tau but I can't imagine them taking it this far."

"Maybe they thought that by killing the Tau commander they can end the battle against the Tau, leaving us with only the orks to deal with," Kael suggested. "Maybe they expected Cain and the others to join them when the shooting started – rather than risking themselves to help the Tau."

"Well the commissars might think that but how would they convince their men to do something that reckless?" I replied. Idiots the Adumbrians might be but some of them, hopefully the officers, should have been able to see the reason behind our truce with the Tau. There was no indication at all that the Adumbrians were unhappy with the plan. However, as I mulled through those thoughts a realization hit me – the senior officers were responsible for briefing their troops. If Trevek was on board all he needed to do was feed false information down and the Adumbrians could have been led to believe we were the traitors. I prayed to the Emperor that was not the case because otherwise Cain and I would have a lot of officers to execute.

If Kael was right about the motives, however, then it made our job all the easier as well as unsettling – we had to rescue the Tau. Once they were safely out of the way, the Adumbrians would have no choice but to retreat and with the mission failed they wouldn't be able to show their face in Vertens without having it blown to pieces.

"I knew having those two idiot commissars was going to be a problem," I sighed quietly. "Kael, I need you to keep your eyes open for any sign of movement." At first I didn't get a response or even after I repeated myself. Glancing over my shoulder I saw Kael staring into the distance, his eyes transfixed on the horizon as if in some sort of trance. Worried that he might have somehow caught a silenced lasbolt I grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a shake. Thankfully, he snapped back to reality quickly with a slightly surprised look. He apologized sheepishly and remarked that he got lost in thought for a few moments. I was lucky that I got his attention when I did because he suddenly pushed me down just as bolter rounds started to fly over our heads.

One of the Adumbrian's chimeras had come around to the front gate in an attempt to cut us off. The heavy bolter rounds rattled the centaur's armour plating but it withstood the initial barrage. Unfortunately, Watz was forced to bring the centaur to a halt – unlike other vehicle the centaur had no rear armour plating so if we drove past the chimera we would catch all the bolter rounds in the arse. I, for one, happened to like having my arse in one piece. Watz was just about to throw the centaur into reverse when we heard a rocket impact and the chimera's turret was blown apart.

Though the bolter rounds had stopped, Kael and I were still cautious as we peaked over the sides. A Tau battlesuit had landed not too far from us and was the one responsible for putting a rocket into the chimera. With the turret was now ablaze Adumbrians started pouring out to engage. Actually, fleeing would have been more accurate since even the rookies knew that lasguns did next to nothing against a battlesuit. However, the soldiers didn't get far as the battlesuit unleashed a burst from a rapid-fire plasma gun, cutting them all down in a matter of seconds. When the battlesuit turned to look at us I thought we were about to share the chimera's fate but then it simply turned away and rocketed off towards the meet site.

"That was conveniently well-timed," Kael muttered.

"We better move quickly, the Adumbrians won't last long when the Tau hit them in force and I don't want the Lord-General and Commisar Cain surrounded by bluies when that happens," I instructed, albeit needlessly as Watz had already brought the centaur back to full speed. He was quite aggravated (and cursing under his breath) by the fact that his centaur had been rattled by, of all things, a traitorous guardsman. As we passed by the flaming wreckage, any doubt I had about the veracity of Cain's assessment was washed away at the sight of the Adumbrian's colours on the hull. In true Kriegan fashion, Watz gave the fallen a proper and respectful one-fingered salute on his way by. For a Kriegan, a traitorous guardsman holds the same intensity of contempt that a Valhallan holds for an ork.

A few Adumbrians attempted to cordon off the main gateway but what they had in initiative they lacked in skill and experience. There may as well have tried to keep out the wind for all the luck they had in keeping a speeding centaur from entering. Between Kael's sniping, me on the heavy stubber, and several tonnes of speeding plasteel, the blockade was little more than a speed bump for us. Whoever had designed the map of the staging area, which I had spent hours studying in preparation, did an awful job with the scaling. I went in expecting at worst a few hundred yards of open rockrete ground. What I got instead was several kilometers of open space surrounded by high rockrete walls and lined with large warehouses, watch towers, and other buildings of varying dimensions and function. The whole area could have functioned as a back-up landing pad and I suspect it had in ages past. The vast, open courtyards kept most of the enemies bottled up in clusters in the buildings and around chimeras. Off in the distance I saw our sentinels pressing into the Adumbrian's flank, forcing many of the soldiers clustered around their chimeras to run inside for protection. Unfortunately, every vehicle was an easy target on the open rockrete, a fact made evident as a rocket streaked over the centaur.

Despite the chaos that normally comes with a battlefield, locating our stranded comrades was not a difficult process – we simply had to look to where the bulk of the laser bolts were going. Caught out in the open at the time of the ambush, Cain and the others had managed to flee to cover behind a series of rockrete road dividers. Cain, the Lord-General, their security detail, and about a dozen Tau were pinned down by a heavy barrage of lasgun and heavy bolter fire but thankfully the extreme ranges were making accuracy neigh on impossible for the Adumbrians. It was strange to see Valhallans and Tau fighting alongside one other but I was promptly reminded of the old saying involving 'the enemy of my enemy.' Near Cain's position was their chimera, which had tried to drive over for a timely rescue but was immobilized by a rocket to the treads. Its multilas turret fired in defiance of the enemy but there was little more it could from its isolated position other than draw some fire away from Cain and the others.

Our approach did not go unnoticed by the Adumbrians as the centaur was once again subjected to a barrage of bolter and lasgun fire. It kept our heads down but didn't impede our advance; much to Watz's chagrin, though, one of the heavy bolter rounds did hit the heavy stubber, shattering the casing and causing some panic after a few bullets cooked off. Watz was understandable irate after that and shouted a number of expletives that many prudish worlds would have considered illegal. Despite our battered appearance, the centaur was a welcomed sight by the beleaguered troops.

"Is it me or does trouble seem to follow us wherever we go?" I remarked as I hopped out the back and was met by Cain and the Lord-General.

"I think you're giving us way too much credit," Cain replied with his usual light-hearted tone despite the warzone around us. "You're thinking that we're important enough for trouble to give a damn about wasting its time with us. Now where are the others?" I explained that I sped ahead of the others and that they would be arriving momentarily, then I expressed my confusion as to where the Tau reinforcements were. From what I saw on my approach, the Tau should have arrived at roughly the same time I had. The Lord-General explained that the Tau reinforcements were dealing with heavy resistance along their approach, thatapparently the Adumbrians had taken far more precautions in dealing with the Tau than they had with us. It led more credence to the theory that they had hoped for Cain and the others to join in on their little ambush. If that were the case, I imagine the Adumbrians were surprised when Cain actually went and saved one of the Tau leaders from the opening shots.

"It's time to get you out of here Lord-General," I said as I motioned for the centaur. "Take the centaur – Watz will drive you safety. The rest of us will cover your escape and wait for reinforcements."

Lord-General Zyvan nodded in agreement saying, "It's a shame to leave all the excitement to you but I suppose there's no point in trying to argue with the two of you."

As he climbed into the centaur, I turned to Cain with a bit of confusion on my mind. "He seems in oddly good spirits all things considered." Cain explained to me that shortly after the firefight started an Adumbrian officer stood up and demanded that our people surrender – Zyvan answered from the mouth of his bolt pistol. Before the centaur could take off, however, one of the Tau approached us. He stood out from the others as he lacked a helmet, wore less armour, and was carrying only a pistol but the second he spoke I realized who it was.

"Commissar Cain," Shas'O Lar'shi spoke, "it is with great reluctance and humility that I ask for your assistance once more. I wish to make use of your transport as well."

"Hm, not so brave without your giant robot, are you?" It was a cheap shot, even by my standards, but I still had a score to settle with the Tau commander. Just because I had to work alongside his army didn't mean that I had to be even remotely polite to him.

However, all I succeeded in accomplishing was shoving a foot into my mouth as Shas'O Lar'shi quickly shook his head. "I have no intention of abandoning this fight; however, it is my sworn duty to see that no harm befalls Aun'vre." He directed my attention to an even more peculiar Tau, one dressed in flowing tan robes rather than heavy armour. The robed Tau wasn't carrying any weapons but the bulk of the Tau soldiers had gathered around him. At the time I had assumed the Tau to have been a diplomat or ambassador of sorts – turns out I was way off the mark on that assessment. Had I known the truth I would have likely told Shas'O Lar'shi to frak off and find his own way home but considering that Cain had gone to such lengths to build a relation with the Tau forces I simply nodded and hurried them along. Also, I didn't want to dally with the Lord-General sitting in the back of my centaur so I went along for the sake of expediency.

Suffice to say, Watz 'politely' objected to the notion of playing chauffeur to a couple of xenos. Cain and Lar'shi instructed Watz to drive to safety as fast as possible to a point on the highway where a Tau transport would arrive to take the xenos off his hand. Once the robed Tau had climbed in along with a bodyguard, Watz was sent on his way.

However, that still left about two dozen Imperial and Tau soldiers stranded in the middle of an open courtyard with only meter-high rockrete dividers to hide behind. The second chimera advanced with the Leman Russ battle tank providing covering fire and soon we had another squad of troopers with us. That didn't improve the situation much since we were still heavily outnumbered and outgunned. A tank helped even the odds a bit but with the enemies entrenched in the buildings the tank would run out of ammo before it could deal enough damage, providing it survived long enough.

"Any idea how many we're dealing with?" I asked since I wasn't about to stick my head up as rounds zipped overhead.

"Judging by the number of heavy weapon emplacements, I'd venture with at least four platoons," Cain replied. "Maybe we're lucky and the whole regiment didn't rebel…I'd hate to have to execute all of them." He handed me a mirror that had been taped to the end of a knife, which gave me the opportunity to peer over the top for a better look as he continued. "Now, the bulk of the enemy troops are concentrated in those three warehouses. They have heavy bolter emplacements in a number of the windows as well as rocket launchers. At that distance they won't hit much but they still pose a threat to our chimeras."

Outnumbered, outgunned, and with the enemy in a far better position than ours – even a rookie could tell that everything was stacked against us. Even for hardened veterans this was a difficult situation. "Well I'd rather not sit here and wait for backup. If they have any mortars or autocannons with them these barricades and our sorry selves aren't going last much longer," I said despite how unpopular the idea was. Charging out into the open was suicide but sitting back and waiting for the cavalry was risky as well. Besides, if we wanted any chance of capturing somebody who might have an idea of what prompted the sudden change of allegiance, we would have to take the fight to the Adumbrians.

"We'll need some powerful covering fire if we're going to make it across this courtyard," Cain reminded me. His last words trailed off, though, which meant his mind was following a new lead to, hopefully, a new strategy. Quickly, he turned to Lar'shi and asked, "What kind of range do your missile launcher platforms have?"

"Significant," Lar'shi replied. We would have preferred something with an actual number but I couldn't blame an enemy for not wanting to divulge the capabilities of their weaponry. Thankfully, Lar'shi could see where Cain was going with his inquiry. "A missile strike would be possible but at this distance we would need to indicate the target with a markerlight."

"Perfect," I said, "who has one?"

"He did I'm afraid," Lar'shi answered as he motioned over the barricade. I quickly glanced over the top and saw what he was pointing to – out in the middle of the courtyard was a fallen Tau soldier with a markerlight-fitted weapon still clutched in one hand.

"Well where's our giant, walking tank of a comrade?" I asked, referring to Garrick who was nowhere to be seen.

"When we made a dash for cover, Garrick decided to go in the opposite direction," Cain explained. It shouldn't have come as a surprise but it was still disappointing to hear. He directed my attention to a smoldering wreckage of a chimera in the distance, which was one of Garrick's first targets when the fighting broke out. Even with a quick glance it appeared as though Garrick had torn the transport apart like it was a tin of food. Wherever our space marine friend was, he was likely giving the Adumbrians many reasons to regret their betrayal.

With our options limited, I did the only thing that seemed even remotely reasonable at the time – I volunteered to run and fetch the markerlight. The only reason I volunteered so promptly was because I knew that if I didn't, Cain inevitably would. Besides, between the two of us, the pint-sized commissar stood a much better chance of not getting shot. It came as no surprise that nobody seemed to object to my proposal, save for the medic who would have been obliged to try and save my arse if I got shot during my fit of insanity. The others agreed to provide covering fire and Kael volunteered to go and find a better vantage point to provide sniper support (which he found in one of the perimeter watchtowers). I knew Cain would probably chew me out later but if I succeeded at least I would have that personal victory when the time came; and if I failed I would be too dead to care what Cain had to say.

After giving Kael a few minutes to get into position and reciting every prayer to the Emperor I could remember off the top of my head, I vaulted over the barricade knowing I would either return a hero or die an idiot. I would have preferred a bit more latitude but since I'm writing this in hindsight I obviously didn't wind up meeting the Emperor that day. What happened when my feet hit the rockrete is a bit of a blur, likely from the combination of adrenaline and sheer bowel-loosening panic that ensued as I made a mad dash across the courtyard. I distinctly recall the heat from passing laser bolts, the crack and whiz of stubber and bolter fire, and that somewhere along the line I lost my hat, again. As I reached the fallen Tau, heavy bolter fire tore up the ground around me. Somehow I didn't get hit but I lost my footing as I was pelted with rockrete chips and fell onto the fallen Tau. That was when I heard him suddenly let out a muffled grunt.

The bastard was still alive…weak but alive. Since a lasgun didn't leave bleeding wounds it was surprising the kind of injuries somebody could survive. Perhaps with the Tau's alien physiology, the shot missed the organs of any importance. However the xeno managed to survive, I was now stuck with the problem of being face-down on the ground with my ass hanging out for anyone with competent marksmanship. The Adumbrians probably thought I got hit when I hit the rockrete, hence the reason why I hadn't been perforated yet, but they would realize their mistake the moment I grabbed the Tau's weapon and ran. My only hope was to grab and run in one swift motion. Unfortunately, I stumbled across a critical flaw in my plan when I tried to gently slide the weapon away from the Tau – he wouldn't let go of it. In fact, the more I tried to pull (without making it obvious to the gunners looking my way that I was still alive), the tighter his grip on the gun.

The idiot Tau was actually clinging to his weapon! He must have thought I was trying to loot him or something. "Let go you stupid bastard," I whispered harshly even though he probably couldn't understand a word I said. I could have pried the gun loose but it would make me an obvious target again; shooting the Tau was an option but I don't know how our newly-forged allies would take the news if they found out; or I could have simply gave up on the markerlight and ran back to safety with an excuse like 'it was busted' to explain my empty hands.

Just then, a Tau battlesuit landed a short distance away, spraying plasma fire across the enemy lines. A vox amplifier rang out from the machine shouting, "Move! I will cover you!" Just what I needed – a giant bullet magnet standing next to me.

A new option then sprang to mind. Rising to my feet, I pulled the fallen Tau up and slung him across my shoulders. Thank the Emperor that the bluies are so small that even my petite shoulders could handle the burden. I dashed across the courtyard, huffing and cursing the whole length, and by the grace of the Emperor (and the horrible aim of the rookies) I managed to reach the safety of the barricade. I unceremoniously hurled the wounded Tau over the barricade and followed suit, caring little that I used the tossed Tau as a cushion when I landed.

I imagine there had been quite a bit of confusion sewn amongst my allies when they saw me carrying the Tau - confusion that was quite evident on their faces when I finally tumbled over the barricade. If they were asking questions I couldn't hear them at first over the gunfire and my heaving chest as I gasped for air. It took everyone, including the Tau, a moment to realize that I had brought back a wounded soldier and not a corpse. Once the realization sank in, the Tau soldiers scrambled to aid their comrade while Lar'shi relieved him of his weapon.

"That was even more insane than your original plan," Cain commented.

"What can I say?" I said between heavy breaths, "the only way I was only going to get that gun over his dead body and I don't think the bluies would have liked that plan."

While I rested to catch my breath, Cain coordinated with Lar'shi to get the missile barrage ready, as well as coordinate the subsequent assault with the troopers. Somebody out there had to be leading the Adumbrians and we needed to know to what extent this betrayal spread and, for the sake of curiosity, what exactly sparked it. Hopefully, we would be able to take an officer or two prisoner before one of us retreated from the battle and if we were lucky perhaps one of the idiot commissars was participating in the fight (assuming they had gone along with this little rebellion).

"Alright everybody, missiles are inbound," Cain called out, "and if you can still hear us Garrick, I suggest you pull back unless you think you're tough enough to withstand falling rockrete blocks and missiles."

It took a couple minutes but eventually I spotted the blue contrails of seeker missiles streaking through the air. At first it was only a few but that number soon swelled into the dozens and for the briefest of moments, I almost felt sorry for the Adumbrians.

Almost.

The missiles struck with a fury that I had rarely seen before in my young career (though would see far more often than I would prefer). Explosions rang out and tore the warehouses apart, pounding craters into the courtyard and blasting holes through the rockrete structures. In seconds almost half the area was engulfed in a cloud of dust and rockrete chunks. Anybody still alive in the mess wasn't going to be able to see a thing and were going to be more concerned with finding a fresh pair of trousers. Troopers, both Imperial and Tau, began vaulting over the barricade and charging across the field to a chorus of battle cries. A few stayed behind to move the wounded to a safer place but I was among those who went over the top despite having barely recovered from my last trip. Our forces split into four teams and began to sweep through the buildings to mop up any leftovers and hopefully to find somebody of some importance.

Being winded, not to mention the proud owner of two rather short legs, I had great difficulty keeping up with the others. When I finally caught up to a team stacked up near a door, I didn't so much as 'join up' with them as I crashed into the wall near them. I heard a familiar voice swearing and I pulled my head from the rockrete wall to see my very least favourite guardsman on the entire planet. Probably the entire system.

"Of all the…why is it out of all the soldiers in this regiment, you keep winding up with us?" Jydais grumbled with no attempt to hide his voice. If I had known that Jydais and his team was part of the Lord-General's security detail I would have stayed behind the barricade. As it stood, I had no choice but to accept my fate and keep moving forward.

I steadied myself against the wall, panting softly but managing to get out, "Too…tired…for snide remark…remind...me...later."

Jydais made his usual, polite suggestion that I just stay the frak out of his way and I responded with my usual defiance, albeit silently by drawing my laspistol. A close-quarters firefight with a bunch of soldiers I barely trusted my backside to was not how I wanted to spend my afternoon (but then again, my ideal day would involve hot tea and biscuits so I rarely got my way). "Remember people, we want to take officers alive if we can. Everybody else is fair game," Jydais instructed as we entered. I let Jydais and the others take the lead, following close behind as they smashed through the door. Half the warehouse had been reduced to rubble and the other half wasn't in much better shape. What luminator orbs still hung to the ceiling provided a flickering light at best and the air was still hazy from dust and rockrete particles drifting in the air currents. Indistinct shouts and footsteps echoed through the halls but as Jydais and his squad moved forward those shouts became cries of panic and gunfire. The veteran squad descended upon the shell-shocked rookies with unrepentant fury; unless it was an officer who was clearly surrendering they shot anybody still moving. We fanned out into teams of two and I stuck close to Lalee, not just because he was the closest but also because he was the least likely to put a round through my back. Unlike the open hostility from the rest of team, Lalee seemed indifferent, which was as good as it got with that squad.

Lalee and I worked through the smaller side rooms, sweeping through each with a flurry of laser bolts and the occasional blow from my shock maul. One particularly high-strung sergeant tried to get the drop on me during one of the later rooms but quick reflexes prevailed and my shock maul put enough volts through his brain to turn it into a charred brisket.

"The rest of our corridor is collapsed, we're doubling back to regroup," Jydais reported, though I was certain he was talking to Lalee and not me. Our section of the warehouse had grown surprisingly quiet. Either we had done a superb job or the enemies were learning to play dead. Just in case, I made sure to put an extra shot into anybody who could possibly be faking it. As my shooting instructor once said, anything worth shooting, is worth shooting twice. Our leisurely stroll through the half-collapsed warehouse came to an abrupt halt when Lalee whistled a warning to me and we fell into cover behind rockrete pillars.

"Something's coming," he whispered. Albeit it was unnecessary as I could already hear the heavy footsteps approaching and they were not coming from the direction of the rest of the squad. It was only a single step of footsteps and it was quickly obvious that it was too heavy for any ordinary soldier but before I could pass on my realization to Lalee, Garrick came into view. His armour was caked in blood and pocked with divots from lasguns but he was unharmed, not that I expected Garrick to be stopped by anything the Adumbrians had at their disposal.

"Don't shoot, friendlies coming out," I shouted just as a precaution, waving an empty hand from behind my hiding spot just in case his aim was faster than his brain. Thankfully, my hand did not get blown off so the rest of my body followed suit. "I guess it'll be safe to assume the rest of the occupants are dead."

"There shall be no mercy for the misguided," Garrick replied, almost proudly at his personal reenactment of the Massacre at Hill 313.

"Don't suppose you've seen any of the commissars or officers around?" It was a futile question but one that I hoped the answer was 'no' for a change. Alas, he nodded and motioned towards a room whose door had been ripped from its hinges. I ventured inside for a look and the bloodied mess left me sighing and shaking my head slowly. "Commissar Cain, this is Commissar Abel…we've located Commissar Wren."

"Is he still alive? What's his status?"

"Um…jellied, sir."

"Are you certain it's him?"

"I can see his hat stuck to the wall…along with several pieces of his head."

"Garrick?"

"Do you really need to ask?" I remarked rhetorically before letting Cain get back to his work. If Wren was here then there was little doubt that his fat associate wouldn't be too far off. Emperor willing, we'd be able to find him before somebody put him down, if the missiles hadn't killed him already. "Was it really necessary to pulp him, Garrick? We sort of needed him alive," I shouted back, albeit unnecessarily as the space marine had followed me into the room.

"He shot me, why should it surprise you that I shot back?" Garrick asked as if genuinely puzzled by my response.

"He had a laspistol. You have power armour! What do you think was going to happen - a critical hit? He would have done more harm with fresh fruit and colourful language. He was more valuable to us as a prisoner than a wall stain. Do you even pretend to listen to our instructions or do you just want to make our job more difficult? Now we have to try and-"

"I fight the enemies of the Emperor in whatever form they might take," Garrick rudely interrupted me, raising his voice above mine with little effort, "and the one of the worst things for a loyal servant of the Emperor to do is to allow a heretic to spread his venomous lies! He would not quit rambling so I silenced him for you!"

Our little shouting match went back and forth for a few more moments, my temper clouding my memory but I do recall how it came to a crashing halt: I interrupted him by shouting, "Oh would you just shut the frak up!"

A general rule of thumb that I try teach to all my pupils is that should you deal with a space marine one of the last things you should do is question their judgment. Most space marines take such language as a personal affront – an insult to their honour. They've killed for far less and the Commissarial sash means about as much to them as flak armour does to a bolter. Even a long-time veteran of the Imperial Guard had about as much battle experience as a novice space marine. For me, a twenty-three year old rookie commissar, talking back to a space marine with more experience and killer instinct in his trigger finger was akin to suicide. Looking back, I'm not certain what possessed me to tempt a marine's wrath by shouting at him to shut his hole but by some miracle he didn't decide to wring the blood from my skull.

Garrick merely glared at me for a brief moment, or at least I assumed he did since he wore his helmet that bore the usual grim space marine visage. However, he didn't say anything and merely walked away. I wasn't sure if I had somehow won the confrontation or he simply wanted to get out of earshot before bursting into laughter at my pathetic attempt at intimidation. Patiently, I waited as his footsteps grew fainter until the only sound in the room was my heart, which was trying to bust through my sternum in protest. "I must be out of my frakking mind," I said between deep breaths while burying my face in my palms.

"Coming, commissar?" A voice called out from behind me. I was so distracted with the Astartes that I hadn't been paying much attention to anything else, especially who was talking to me. That was my first mistake.

My second was when I replied, "I'll be there in a minute."

At worst I figured I would just be left behind and be forced to sprint some more in order to catch up. Instead, there was a crackle of energized air and several hot, stabbing pains shot up my back , then everything went black.


	16. SIXTEEN

**SIXTEEN**

I should have died that day. I had stupidly dropped my guard for a few moments and somebody walked up behind me, took their sweet time in aiming, and fired several shots into my backside. In my career I had seen far worthier people die through no fault of their own and yet I lived despite having made one of the dumbest mistakes you could do without being considered mentally deficient. I lived because while I might have made a massive and erroneous lapse in judgment, my assailant made an even worse one – he didn't bother to check and make sure I was dead. You can be certain that several shots in the back is virtually guaranteed to kill any guardsman or commissar. But most guardsmen and commissars don't stuff an extra layer of flak armour under their coat. Perhaps my shooter was in a hurry, perhaps he was drawing his last breath, or maybe somebody wanted me alive (though I think that is unlikely as I was deliberately shot several times at close range).

Now the flak armour might have saved my life but that didn't mean I was able to get up and walk away from the attack. Quite the contrary, I laid unconscious for several hours. The flak armour had taken some of the edge off the hits but they had still caused significant injury.

I had been reported missing presumed dead, written off as another statistic in a bloody war that had already claimed thousands of lives already. Somewhere, Cain was resigning himself to the fact that he'd have to start doing his own paperwork again; Watz was working on the centaur so he wouldn't have to think about how he'd loss another shot at an easy career; and a certain veteran sergeant was probably feeling a bit more cheerful.

Considering the career that I had chosen, the assignment I had been so unceremoniously dumped into plus the inevitability of a painful death for anybody serving in the Imperial Guard, a part of me was wondering if just surrendering to death would be the best option or if I should subject myself to more abuse, pain and suffering.

What happened next I still often debate late into the night over a glass of amasec. At the time I dismissed it as nothing more than the random firing of neurons as my brain slowly started losing power and the synapses desperately tried to cling to life. Lately, however, I wonder if it could have been something more. I was conscious but at the same time I wasn't. Rather like dreaming that you're awake when you're sleeping but then realizing that you are awake. I was lying on the ground surrounded by sheer, utter darkness and an all-pervasive chill. Back then I thought it was what people went through as they died – that cold, darkness that people usually described in their last breaths before calling out for their mother. I couldn't help but wonder, 'am I dying?'

"Do _you_ believe you are dying?" A voice suddenly spoke up, soft to the ear, flowing through my mind like a warm breeze. I looked for a source and saw a barely-visible figure standing over me. Whether it was darkness or failing nerves, I could scarcely make out any details other than the outline of a tall figure, featureless save for two shimmering points where the eyes would be. They twinkled ever so slightly as he spoke but otherwise I seemed to be talking to a shadow on a non-existent wall.

"I…I think so. Are you…are you the Emperor?"

He shook his head slowly. "Your Emperor cannot help you here." That was undeniably true. There wasn't going to be some miracle to save me and if I was still alone after so many hours then it was unlikely anybody was going to bother coming for me. A quick death was beginning to seem like a preferable option. I wondered if I just let my eyes drift shut, I might be able to go to sleep and simply not wake up.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized my senses weren't slowly shutting down but it was merely nightfall and the temperature had dropped significantly. I was, in fact, still in the shattered warehouse in the same spot that I fell, as evident by the presence of my laspistol. "I…I'm still alive," I muttered at the realization. To further test my observation, I tried to move, which predictably caused sharp, stabbing pains to shoot through my back. Now there was no doubt about it: I was definitely alive…at least for the moment. While I could safely conclude I was not yet in my last throes of life, the shadowy apparition was still present and still just as featureless. "What do you want?"

"Actually, there is a far more important question to ask," he replied, slowly walking around me like a tutor circling their troublesome student. "What do _you_ want?"

"I asked first…"

"Ah, but first is rarely what matters," the voice replied, almost mockingly. "The first to live is often the first to die; the first to act is often the first to make mistakes; the first to talk is often the first to be ignored. As such, being first means little in the end so I ask again: what do you want?"

"Right…I'm clearly losing my mind," I sighed in resignation. Why I was arguing with a figment of my exhausted imagination is still a mystery to me but when alone and close to death, sometimes weird things are needed to keep the mind running. Figuring that if I ignored the voice long enough my mind would eventually stop trying to screw with me and give but after several minutes it lingered, repeating the question every so often. "I want you to shut up!" I finally snapped after hearing the same question for the tenth time.

Oddly enough, for a short while the voice did remain silent. The barely-visible shadow was still lingering over me but at least it had stopped talking. I was almost able to convince myself that what I saw before me was merely the light (or general lack thereof) playing tricks on my fatigued mind. But then the voice spoke again, eyes twinkling as if to remind me that it was still there. "Silence did not improve your situation." Neither was the yammering but pointing it out did not dissuade the voice from continuing to provide pointless feedback. Since ignoring and telling the voice off didn't help matters, I figured I might as well just try being honest for a change. There wasn't much point in lying to myself now was there?

It asked what I wanted. "I want…to get out of here," I groaned.

"That, commissar, is entirely up to you."

"If the Emperor wills it…"

"Do you really think He will help you now? Do you honestly believe a giant, mystical hand will reach down and lift to your feet? Cure your pains? Tend your wounds? Shield you from harm?"

"No, but…somebody could come and-"

"And if nobody comes?" the voice interrupted, much to my annoyance. "Yours is the only will that you can depend upon and it is the greatest weapon you will ever possess. Find the strength wherever you wish but only when you accept the burden of your destiny will you find where it leads. When darkness envelopes, yours is the only light you can use to illuminate your path. Now I ask you, do you wish to live?" I simply nodded, not sure how I had managed to get chastised by my own consciousness. "Then you will _want_ to get up."

I felt like I just got slapped in the face by Captain Obvious but I had just minutes ago almost resigned myself to an inevitable death. Did I just mentally kick my own arse back into line? Sometimes even a commissar needed a kick in the pants. I needed to get up; I wanted to get up…I wanted to live. However, if my own chastising subconscious had failed to motivate me, the heavy footsteps and loud, obscene grunting echoing from outside would. They were not the muttering and bickering of guardsmen or heretics but orks. Injured and perhaps surrounded by orks made for bad survival odds and I began to wonder how my subconscious ever expected willpower to help but I had already committed myself to surviving so there was no where to go but forward.

I grabbed my laspistol and started crawling across the room to where an intact metal pipe still ran up the wall. Although it was slow and very painful progress, I was able to use the pipe to climb back to my feet. One of the shots must have caught my shoulder, though, as moving my left arm cause the sharp pains to return and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. Contrary to what a lot of war novels and holofilms suggest, getting shot makes it very difficult to move and not just because of the pain. It took almost all my strength to get up and all my willpower not to scream at the top of my lungs in the process. I was about to take my first steps when I heard footsteps closing in and the telltale sign of ork grunts and mutterings echoing through the hall. Steadying my laspistol as best I could (thankfully my right shoulder was uninjured) at the doorframe, I did not even dare to breath as the footsteps grew louder. The first one appeared, its massive, hulking frame seemed too big to make it through the doorway, not that I expected an obstacle as simple as a narrow doorway would hold back a bloodthirsty ork. Fighting orks indoors was always a bad thing for us puny humans: indoors only the smaller orks could move about easily but the short ranges meant even their bad accuracy was dangerous and they could be right on top of you in a heartbeat (usually your last). At first it didn't see me in the shadows – it wasn't looking in my direction. Praying wasn't going to help me so I focused on lining up my shot. Since the universe had made it a personal mission to play mind games with me, the ork lingered in view, its head sweeping from side to side, loud snorts and sniffs barely audible over my jack-hammering heart. My hands trembled. It was me against Emperor-knows how many orks and the slightest noise would give my position away. A single shot from my laspistol, even if it was precise enough to take out the ork before it could let out a holler, would alert any ork in the immediate vicinity and a cascade of hollers would lead them to me. They would descend upon me faster than a pack of tyranids on an all-you-can-eat buffet.

It was a most disconcerting thought.

The ork looked ready to move on but just before he continued on his way, my hand slipped on the metal pipe was using for support, sending a spray of rockrete pebbles across the floor. They clattered upon the rockrete floor, followed soon by a heart-stopping call of 'wut dat?' From that point on I had little other choice – the board was set, the pieces were in place, and all I could do from that point on was fight for dear life. The first shot faltered, missing the vital point and only blowing off most of its jaw. The pained howl echoed through the building but it only lasted a moment as my second shot pulped its brain.

I waited a few seconds to see if any other orks would spill into the room but thankfully none came. At first I thought I could hear the continuing echo of the ork's wail through from the halls but after a few seconds I realized it wasn't an echo I was hearing. Despite spikes of pain shooting through my body with every breath and movement, I limped passed the fallen ork and into the hall just in time to see a bunch of the greenskins clustering near at the far end. Whether they could see me or not was irrelevant, I had to strike first if I were to have any chance of survival. The tight hallways and stocky ork frames meant every short hit something and the few shots they managed to fire back whisked past me. A dozen shots later, the cluster of orks were dead but I could hear more coming soon.

_"Run commissar! Run!"_

It was that damn voice again. Maybe I really was losing my mind. However, this was not the time to be having arguments with my inner self so I carried on down the hall as fast as my wounded body could carry me. A few shots bouncing off the rockrete near my head provided excellent motivation to pick up the pace. Unfortunately it was not motivation that I lacked but capability. I approached a four-way intersection, my first instinct to head to the right. If I hadn't become too disorientated it should be the quickest route outside.

_"Left, now!"_ The voice echoed through my mind.

Since I only had a nano-second to make up my mind (though part of it already seemed to be decided), I figured I'd follow the advice of the little voice in my head. Thus far it hadn't steered me wrong and by the whiz and crackles of the bullets bouncing off the walls the left hallway proved to be the only one clear of orks. The random shots I fired blindly over my shoulder did little to dissuade my pursuers and they were rapidly gaining ground on me. Movements in the shadow ahead caught my attention and for a short while I thought they had managed to box me in. But the silhouette I saw in the distance was not large enough to be an ork and I wondered if my eyes were merely playing tricks on me again. I was close to dismissing it as the same visual hallucination that had taunted me earlier. Then the shadow spoke and all doubt was moved.

"Get down Abel!" Kael's voice rang out. I hit the ground as advised, less of a dive and more of a drunken pratfall. Silenced shots zipped over me, cutting down the orks with surgical precision. I had barely regained my composure when Kael came up to me. "Fancy running into you out here, eh? Come on Abel, on your feet." If I weren't so close to dying I might have resented being ordered around but saving my arse does grant certain privileges. With the added support from Kael, we were able to continue moving forward.

"I hope you have an escape route planned."

"Yeah…Watz is waiting out by the vehicle," Kael explained.

"Watz is here?" I asked incredulously.

"Well somebody had to drive and Watz sure as heck wasn't interested in getting reassigned," he answered with a sigh. We stopped at another four-way intersection and his eyes panned between the different halls. Being a scout, he should've known his way through the building effortlessly so I was puzzled to see him so hesitant. "Everybody had pretty much pegged you for being dead and with the orks roaming around the neighbourhood they weren't going to risk sending anybody in. I was a little surprised that Watz was willing to help me out. I guess I wasn't the only one hoping for a miracle."

"That's all well and good but which way do we go?" I asked in order to get him to focus on the task at hand.

Finally, he decided on a direction and took us straight ahead. With echoing of orks all around, I figured he was trying to plot a path that avoided them, rather than the most direct route out. At the next intersection he tried to take us right but a group of orks appeared around the corner in the distance and a volley of gunfire forced us to take another route, to the tune of much cursing. Our movement became more hasty and erratic after that, which led me to initially believe that he had been anticipating on using the hallway we had been forced away from. The truth, it turned out, was that he wasn't so much keen on using the main hallway that we had been cut off from but that he desperately wanted to avoid the hallway we had been forced into. This fact was made readily apparent when we stumbled into a dead-end room.

"Frak, I was afraid of this," Kael muttered bitterly. "Serves me right for being so hasty."

"Any more brilliant plans?" I remarked.

"One…but you're really going to have to trust me on this," he said as he led me into the room. He carefully set me down in the corner of the room. I thought he would barricade the entrance or something idiotic like trying to draw the orks away from me. Instead, he knelt down beside me, drawing me close with his arm and then covering my mouth with a free hand. I did not know what he was up to…but I had no option but to trust him if I wanted to survive. We waited, barely making a sound as we kept out breath soft and shallow. I knew the shadows would make us harder to see but we were far from invisible and as a few orks stomped into the room I was certain we would be slaughtered in a heartbeat.

But they didn't seem to notice us. The two orks walked right past us and gawked in confusion at the otherwise empty room. One of the orks even turned and looked right our direction and for a second I was certain our eyes met…but then it turned away and started shouting at the smaller ork next to it. The two started shouting at one another, which naturally involved into head-smacking, and then finally the larger ork just hit the smaller one with its cleaver. It was the typical routine of ork behavior – cursing, violence, and then both walking away as if everything was perfectly normal despite one having bodily wounds that would fell a normal human. Eventually the orks left, their footsteps faded into nothing and silence fell upon the warehouse, at which point Kael finally loosened his grip on me. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief but I was left with more questions than a paranoid inquisitor on stims.

"What the frak did you do?" I blurted out immediately and was quickly wary of how loud I might have been. Thankfully, I did not undo all the good fortune that had just fallen upon us. There was no way in the Warp that those orks could have overlooked us, not in their blood-hungry state. There was only one feasible explanation that popped to mind. "What manner of sorcery was that?"

"The kind that just saved your arse…and you're welcome, by the way," he snipped back. Though he might have saved my life, I wasn't prepared to risk damning my soul over it. I leveled my laspistol at him, which he noticed with no hint of surprise. "I told you to trust me Ariel," he said sternly. "I came to get you out of here so please let me do that. When this is over and we speak again, I'll answer all the questions you want about this."

He had a very good point. As upset and suspicious as I was, he did possess the only means of escape and it wasn't like he was crapping out daemons. Whatever he did…whatever he was capable of…it hadn't caused me harm, yet. I may as well continue trusting him. "Fair enough," I said in resignation, allowing my laspistol to fall to my side.

Kael looked relieved to hear that, though it only showed for a brief moment before he hopped back to his feet and crept to the doorway. "We'll wait here for a minute or two. They should start to disperse when they can't find us and will assume we've made it outside. Thankfully, orks don't exactly have organized search parties." Thank the Emperor for small miracles indeed; any other army would have posted sentries and made systematic sweeps. Orks could barely organize a clusterfrak. The silence didn't help ease my nerves much but with so much happening at once I barely noticed that my hands were still shaking. Kael returned to my side and offered to take a look at my injuries. Normally I would leave it for a proper medic but since I had no idea of the extent of my injury, it seemed like the prudent choice. For all I knew, I had been running through the hall with my kidneys trailing behind. I shifted into a more comfortable position while Kael apparently did his best to make it as uncomfortable as possible. His fingers poked and probed through the holes in my coat and armour, pushing against charred, burnt flesh. "Looks like these came from a lasgun," Kael said. "I figured you'd be more careful than to just drop your guard."

"I got distracted," I replied. "The rest of the squad should have been just outside…everyone in the room was dead…"

"Black Cross maybe?"

"Couldn't have been just a coincidence that I was with the one squad that hated me the-OW! Careful!" Had it not hurt so much to twist my upper body, I would've reached back and smacked Kael for that but I had little choice but to make a mental note to hit him later. Every time he made me wince was going to be five smacks upside the head. He was up to forty thus far. Things were quiet for a while as Kael continued to poke and prod and I continued to keep tabs on his debt. Eventually, as the question nagged at my mind, I had to ask, "Why'd you come back for me?"

"Why do I need a reason to save your life?" He was clearly trying to deflect the issue, which was all the reason I needed to keep pressing.

"You couldn't have known I was still alive…so why risk your neck on the slim chance I was still alive in all this mess? Plus, two people risking their lives for a commissar who might be dead – people don't risk their lives with the odds stacked so squarely against them without a really good reason. I'm not worth that kind of risk."

"Did you ever think that maybe you matter more than you give yourself credit?" Kael insisted, sounding a bit annoyed at my display of humility. How come Cain always got away with it? "You're important to your regiment, to your comrades, to Cain, to your friends, to this mission…and to me." Despite how much it hurt, I had to look back to see Kael's expression – the conversation was just too difficult for me to continue without being able to read his expression. People often told far more through the subtleties of their facial muscles than with their words. However, my gesture must have sent a different message as Kael immediately fell into a verbal retreat. "I…uh, didn't mean it like that! What I meant to say was that well-being is a matter of great concern to me and…um, that doesn't sound a whole lot better actually. I just mean that I like you…uh, but not in the way that you're thinking! Unless you're thinking that I meant in the total non-emotional, arm's length away kind of way, in which case that's exactly what I meant. Well, I don't mean quite like that cause it's not completely non-emotional and…um, I'm getting myself confused here."

"You're not the only one," I quipped.

Kael took a deep breath to regain his composure, giving me time to wonder how a guy with social skills like that managed to get a girl in the first place. "I know it sounds weird but I do care about you…but not in the way that you're thinking. I…I don't really think of anybody in that way actually…not anymore at least."

I think that was one of the only times I actually knew he was telling the truth. It was something about the way his tone softened at the end, the way his eyes drifted downward and lingered there for a few seconds. It was something that I had seen before. "There never really is one quite like the first one, right?" I asked rhetorically.

He nodded slowly, pulling away and leaning back against the wall. "I don't expect you to fully understand."

"I do...sorta," I replied. "My parents were together only long enough for me to pop up. My father was never with anybody else afterwards and he was always a bit happier when he spoke about her and their time together. I honestly think it was the only time he was ever really happy…"

"You probably would have liked her," Kael said with a hint of a smile. "She was a warrior first and foremost, kinda like you. I never really could understand what she saw in me. Heck, she hated me the first time we met. She called me a 'flower-pressing, weepy-eyed little girl.' But in a way, I suppose I also reminded her of how things ought to be rather than always filled with bloodshed and carnage. She said I was an anchor for her…a connection to the world. I couldn't save her though…and the constant fighting took its toll. It was so gradual I didn't even notice it until it was too late; until all she ever seemed to think or care about was the next mission."

"It sounds like she was just dedicated to something greater than herself. That's part of what being a soldier is all about."

"That's what everybody else told me," Kael said grimly. "It didn't make the last few years we had any easier. There wasn't anything left of her…at least nothing of the person I loved. It was…weird seeing somebody familiar and yet so alien walking around…wearing her clothes…sleeping in her bed. When did 'acceptable loses' become the mantra of the universe? When did the big picture become so encompassing that we could no longer see the mountains of bodies we were creating? When did the existence of the principle become more important than the meaning of it?"

"By the Emperor…you really are a flower-pressing, weepy-eyed little girl."

We both laughed, or I should say he laughed and I tried to laugh for as long as I could before the pain became too much for me. "Maybe, but don't you go falling in love with me too. I've been hurt enough times already…by orks." It could've been considered strange for two isolated people to be having a laughing fit while hiding from orks but the stress of the situation had been wearing on our nerves. If anything, the laughter helped our minds reset and focus on the important issues with renewed vigor.

"Okay, knock that off," I said as I tried to keep another bout of laughter down. "This really frakking hurts, you know?" Since we had wasted enough time treading on subjects unusual for the situation and I had a far better understanding of the man than I wanted, Kael helped me back to my feet and we continued on our way. As Kael had anticipated, the orks had assumed we had escaped the warehouse, as our escape from the building went without a hitch. Outside, the shadows, large open spaces, and a now plentiful supply of cover provided by the ruined buildings, we were able to escape beyond the perimeter with little difficulty (at least on his part, moving still hurt like frak for me). He led me out into the jungle where our movement was quickly spotted by an all-too-happy-to-see-me Watz. To be honest, I was actually quite thrilled to see his masked noggin as well.

"Praise the Emperor," he said in a barely-contained whisper as he rushed over to help. "I was skeptical when Kael said it'd be better if he went in alone but…damn is it good to see you again commissar."

"Believe me, the feeling is mutual," I said with a weary grin. Watz took over as support, helping me along into the brush. I had expected the familiar sight of the centaur but what greeted me instead took me by more surprise than it should have.

"You're looking well for a dead person," Cain said, standing in the open canopy of a scout salamander. I should have expected a daring, nighttime rescue from the likes of him and I had wrongly dismissed his participation since he had not been personally leading the rescue. It must have taken Kael a lot to convince Cain to sit and wait in the salamander.

"Cain? What are you doing here?" I asked stupidly since my mind was still dumbfounded by his presence.

Cain modestly shrugged as though he was just as puzzled by his presence. "Your centaur was with the enginseers for repair. They needed a fast vehicle and somebody to talk them through the gates…so here I am."

Watz promptly reminded us that we were still surrounded by orks and not wanting to bear the embarrassment of having a rescue party call for its own rescue, we loaded into the salamander. I was a bit surprised to see Watz behind the wheel and I asked Cain where his fragrant aide was. He mentioned something about Jurgen being too tired to be entrusted with the mission, which was probably for the best since I wouldn't have wanted Kael to have another nausea episode like last time. I'm not sure if it was the sheer exhaustion I suddenly felt or just the comforting sense of security that came from knowing that I was safely on route back to base but within a few minutes I had drifted asleep.

Or maybe my brain finally gave up and I lost consciousness. It had been a bloody and long day.

* * *

What happened after my arrival back at base is a blur to me for the most part. Wounds, weariness, and liberal doses of medications meant that I spent the next several hours in a state medically referred to as 'high as a battle barge.' I imagine there was a great deal of commotion upon our return, followed by me being carried off to the medicae facility while a team of medics made sure I was too drugged to threaten bodily harm as they shoved their fingers down every hole in my back. I had been shot three times in the back at close range with a lasgun. According to them I should have been dead hours ago and my survival was nothing short of a miracle from the Emperor.

Somehow I doubt the Emperor was concerned for my well-being, otherwise he wouldn't have let me get shot in the first place.

It wasn't until morning that I was finally alert enough to know which hole to shovel food into. Watz was there when I awoke, though he wasn't at first. An orderly was observant enough to notice my awakening and brought around some breakfast for me. It wasn't much but I was half-starved by that point so I would've eaten it even if it had been ground-up ration bars. "So what did I miss?" I asked between mouthfuls of some kind of locally-made biscuit.

"You should have seen the shit-storm that came about. The Lord-General was so pissed I thought he was going to nuke the whole planet," Watz explained with more enthusiasm than I would have imagined given the subject. "He voxed ahead so when we reached the command center they had dragged out a captain from the Adumbrian's third company. I swear he looked as confused as an ork in a librarium and then the Lord-General started ripping him a new one…uh, verbally of course. Poor guy looked like he was about to loose his whole bowels right then and there. Lord-General Zyvan was just about ready to put a bolt between the guy's eyes when his aides raced in and pulled him away. I guess it's not quite proper for a Lord-General to be popping heads out in the courtyard for everyone to watch."

"You say the captain was confused?" I asked as I was puzzled by why Watz was showing any hint of sympathy for the Adumbrians. "What's the situation with them?"

Watz didn't have much of the details but from what he had heard; Colonel Trevek had taken his command staff and all of 1st and 2nd company out to relieve the Catachans shortly after our chat with the Tau. Nobody thought anything of it at the time since they were the rookies and figured it was just punishment for having screwed things up so badly. When word hit home about the betrayal, Colonel Kasteen and the rest of the 597th were quick to put the remainder of the Adumbrian regiment under arrest. Unfortunately, as far as anyone could tell, none of the other companies had any idea what their colonel had been planning. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't have let ignorance serve as a defense but if they were unaware of the conspiracy then they could prove their resolve and loyalty by continuing to fight for us. We couldn't afford to keep an entire regiment under arrest.

"When you have some time, could you find Kael for me? I suppose the least I should do is thank him for saving my arse."

"Um, yeah…that might not be possible," Watz said reluctantly. I pressed for an explanation as I was understandably confused by the notion. It did not seem plausible for Kael to have overcome such odds to rescue me only to be hit during the escape. The explanation, however, was far more disconcerting. "Damnedest thing happen on the way back to base. Cain and Kael were talking in the back and then Kael mentioned something about how Cain should talk to you when you woke up and for me to tell you that he's sorry. I asked what in the warp he was talking about but when I looked over my shoulder he was just gone."

"Just…gone?"

"He must have hopped off the back when Cain and I weren't looking. We doubled-back to try and find him but Cain eventually insisted that we get you back to base first and worry about him later." I was confused by his sudden disappearance but I suspected it had something to do with avoiding the fallout that would come when I questioned him and exactly what he did back in the warehouse. The potential implications of his flight were not promising. It was something I knew I needed to discuss with Cain as soon as I could. On a side note, Kael's disappearance had another not-too-surprising side effect on things. With him gone that meant that the salamander returned to base with nothing more than the heroic Commissar Cain, a loyal soldier of the Imperial Guard, and a wounded commissar thought to have been killed in action. No prizes in guessing how people interpreted that kind of arrival.

No sooner was I about to send Watz to find Commissar Cain when the man came walking into the medicae bay, with Garrick alongside him. I figured the commissar must have instructed the orderly to alert him as soon as I was conscious…or he simply had impeccable timing, which had always been a trait of his.

"How are you feeling?" Cain asked upon his arrival at my bedside.

"About as good as you'd expect for being shot three times in the back," I replied with a hint of sarcasm just to show that my spirits hadn't been dampened by the incident. "Watz just told me about Kael jumping ship."

"Ah, good…that'll speed things up a bit," Cain replied. "Before Kael went and vanished he mentioned that I should speak with you when you woke up. Now, did he do anything…peculiar during your rescue? Any sort of odd behavior from him or something that happened that by all means shouldn't have?"

"Uh…yeah, there was," I replied. I did not know how Cain got his suspicions but he clearly saw something that I had missed, which left me with a sense of humility and foreboding. I explained Kael's unusual choice of escape route through the warehouse and went into great lengths about how we went from being chased by orks to be completely overlooked despite being under their noses. Garrick and Cain took much interest in the latter.

When I finished the impromptu debrief, Cain was already deep in thought, arms folded across his chest and a pensive look across his face. Eventually he turned to Garrick, "You've got more experience with matters of sorcery, what is your impression of this?"

"This Kael is most definitely a psyker," Garrick said, nodding his head slowly. The confirmation explained why Cain never told me of the exact nature of his suspicions – I would have tipped off Kael the second I saw him. "Commissar Abel, you have seen Kael in battle. I need you to describe the way he fights as best you can."

While I didn't understand how Kael's fighting style made a difference, I knew that with Garrick's vastly greater experience it had to mean a great deal. It took me a moment but I eventually found the right words. "He never so much as fought, as he operated. More like a surgeon than a butcher. Every movement he made was with methodical, purpose, moving swiftly from one target to the next; every strike was precise and with the utmost lethality regardless of how large his opponent was. He wasn't fighting them…he was just killing them, like it was a sport or a hobby to him. And he did it faster than any person I had ever seen." At that very moment, it was as if that missing piece of the puzzle suddenly fell into place and the entire image came into view. I paused with the horrified realization before finally muttering, "Sweet Emperor, don't tell me he's-"

"Indeed," Garrick stopped me. "He's Eldar."


	17. SEVENTEEN

**SEVENTEEN**

Given my propensity to be overly critical of my mistakes, one can imagine how I took the realization that the man who had saved my life, a man with whom I had been working closely for the past few days, was not even a man at all. He was a xeno. Worse than that, he was a xeno who had been playing me for a fool. The revelation raised numerous questions and brought about grave implications for the entire campaign. Cain, for the most part, did seem somewhat surprised at Garrick's confirmation but I'd wager that Cain had been suspecting something of his nature for some time. The truth, then, merely confirmed a possibility that had been slowly dancing around in his mind. I had long resigned myself to the fact that Cain, being more experienced, could see things that I would overlook. But just how superior his perception was to mine and to those around him did not dawn on me until that day. He had correctly suspected something that completely blindsided me even though he had been little more than a casual observer.

The extent of my knowledge of Eldar had come from lectures at the schola and a few afternoons in a xenobiology lab where we were shown specimens of the various alien races. I had been spoon-fed the usual lecture material about the Eldar – their fickle, capricious nature; their contemptuous disregard for humanity; and possessed frail, feeble bodies that could not stand the rigors of true combat. I, however, recall reading an old Guardsman's primer from the Damocles' Gulf Crusade, the Imperium's first major campaign against the Tau, and to say that the primer was inaccurate about the Tau would be akin to saying that a Tyranid infestation is a 'bit of a bug problem.' What the average citizen is taught about the xenos serves to little more than placate them. I've learned over many years that the public is usually given the bare-minimum in terms of facts, fleshed out with copious amounts of fabrications. It's an ugly necessity, however, as even a grain of truth would make most people just give up on life. While the previous remarks were true about Eldar in general, there is far more to them than generic, broad-stroke characterizations.

Kael, for example, came across as anything but capricious or contemptuous, and he handled himself better in battle than most soldiers I had met. Of course, he likely had more battlefield experience than an entire company of guardsmen. Still, to think that the man that I had slowly learned to consider a strange sort of friend was actually a xeno left me feeling…conflicted. I would be lying if I said that Kael did not haunt my thoughts to this day. On Magnus Viridis, I was so young and bloody naïve…I had trouble wrapping my head around the notion of Kael being the enemy. He had saved my life and, for a brief moment, I had started to understand him but he was a xeno nonetheless – an enemy of the Imperium. Duty always had to come first.

For a long time, I was bloody pissed off, mostly at myself for having been duped so easily. Cain did his best to reassure me that everyone else was equally fooled but I noted that he didn't answer when I asked why he wasn't deceived. From what Garrick had told me when I asked for more about the Eldar, chances were that my first encounter with the Eldar had been staged. Coincidences, according to Garrick, do not exist with the Eldar – the unlikely happens because they make it happen. I asked Garrick if there was any truth to the rumours I had once heard that the Eldar could see into the future using their sorcery. He told me it was true but the truth was not as terrifying as the rumours made it seem. That, unfortunately, did little to comfort me.

Kasteen was understandably annoyed when the news reached her the next day. She was the one who had approved Kael's attachment to my command but whether she was annoyed out of sympathy to my situation or because she too had been played, I cannot say for certain.

The revelation left me in a quiet, brooding state for the next several days while I recovered in the medicae facility. I wasn't sure what should be feeling – anger at Kael's true nature? Annoyed by his deception? Hurt by his desertion? Saddened by the fact that I'd have to kill him the next time I saw him? Worried that he'd probably kill me if I tried? Terrified by the fact that every thought I had when he was around was probably probed by him? What threw my emotions even more off balance was when I awoke one morning to find a small trinket that had been left on my bedside table. It was a small piece of wood that had been diligently carved into the shape of a little person…a person who, upon closer inspection, I realized was me, dressed in full commissarial attire and posed with a raised hand saluting. The detail was immaculate, down to even the subtle details of my artificial eye. Along with the tiny wooden figurine was a flower, the same kind that Kael had shoved into my hair when we were out on patrol. Had I not known who it was from, I would've of considered it a sweet gesture but part of me simply wondered if he was intentionally messing with my head. I was half-tempted to pitch the figurine across the room but…for some reason I pocketed it instead. If anything it would serve as a simple memento to remind me to pay closer attention to those around me. To look beyond an individual not just at them.

By the end of the first week, I was well enough to start moving around again but my body was still stiff and sore. So Cain confined me to administrative duties for a few more weeks. It was strange that it took less than a day for word of Cain's heroic rescue to spread through the base but it took nearly a week for people to realize that I was the person rescued. Even Lord-General Zyvan thought I was dead up until I meandered past him in the halls several days after my return. Were it not for my distinctively white locks he probably wouldn't have even noticed me.

The situation with the Adumbrians had improved somewhat after a few days. With Trevek missing, the remaining Adumbrians companies were divvied between the other regiments. The Lord-General figured it would be safer to keep them separated so any potential dissenters would not be able to spread their message and it would be easier to keep a watchful eye on them. We had little idea of where Trevek and his men went but with an ork horde to deal with we could not spare much manpower to scout around. A surprising olive branch came from the Tau as they offered to assist in locating the missing colonel, though the Lord-General was worried that if the Tau found him first we would get a corpse, rather than a prisoner. According to Garrick, Eldar tampering could have played a factor and we needed to confirm if this was the case. Stimpsen was still alive but as Cain promptly pointed out, the man was so obtuse that he probably didn't need much convincing beyond Wren's commitment.

It had also been brought up that our spy problem was likely also the interference of the Eldar. Whether it was Kael or another hidden operative was unknown but I hoped that it was Kael – we had enough to deal with that we didn't need more Eldar to complicate matters. Kael was the logical choice as his past experience in the PDF would have given him an understanding of the city's layout, including the gate control mechanisms, and if warp prophecy was involved then it would explain how the Tau knew about Cain's participation in the campaign. We had no idea what Kael hoped to accomplish and even Garrick was at a loss for ideas. Eldar, he explained, could operate on reasons that our minds simply could not fathom but while I didn't voice it, I suspected that Kael was not that complicated. But if Kael was the only operating spy then I had another reason to hate him – Waffan's death.

Some officers were certain that Kael would head underground or off-world now that his cover had been blown but I doubted it would be that simple. Kael got involved for a reason and it wasn't just to hang around me for a few days. Whatever he was up to, he intended to finish. The wooden trinket alone was proof that he could still walk into out midst without even being noticed. He had simply lost one tool in his arsenal but he still had a big barrack box of trickery left to rely upon.

While I toiled away with paperwork in my office, the rest of the regiment had fun dealing with the orks. As we had anticipated, the major ork offensive against our city came a few days after my return. Thanks to Cain's heroic actions in saving the Tau leader, a temporary truce to combat the common threat was cemented. Hostilities between our armies ceased and we turned our combined firepower against the Orks. With the worry of Tau anti-air batteries temporarily gone, we were able to receive more supplies and equipment from our fleet and Thunderhawks from the Astartes frigate provided valuable air support in defending the city against the orks. The weeks while I was stuck in the office were…eventful for the regiment and I was irritated that I was once again stuck on the sidelines. Watz didn't seem to mind too much – it kept him out of the firing line and he began to find an appreciation in being aide to a commissar. For starters it gave him authority that did not come with extra responsibility – if I needed a cup of recaf he was able to get it from the mess hall promptly, along with anything else he was feeling puckish for, using the commissarial authority. There were times I wondered if he enjoyed that perk a little too much but I figured if it kept him happy and he didn't step on anyone's toes then he might as well get to enjoy the perk. Emperor knows it's tough to be a guardsman even without the 'you'll probably die in the next fight' threat looming overhead.

Heilmit, on the other hand, was getting restless now that his injuries had healed enough for him to handle a lasgun comfortably again. Things had apparently gone south between him and the pretty medical orderly he had been fancying so he needed an excuse to get out of the medicae facility quickly. I managed to convince Kasteen to attach him to one of the squads for the time being – Grifen's squad to be precise. The kid made quite an impression on Magot if I recall correctly and she made quite an impression on his face…with a rifle butt.

To be fair, I don't think she was his type to begin with.

The campaign against the orks began to improve significantly as the days passed. In a few days they went from threatening our cities to being pushed back into their base of operation. The Catachans and the Kroot became instrumental when the fighting pushed into the thicker parts of the jungle and while tension was always present, I think the Catachans enjoyed not having to deal with the kroot (not that they were scared of the kroot or anything, according to them at least). Lord-General Zyvan hoped that we would have the ork problem dealt with within a few more weeks and then we could go back to killing the Tau, which I really wasn't looking forward to all that much. With most of the fighting in the jungle, our vehicles had less impact on the battles, which meant that the casualties were beginning to mount on both sides. It soon became clear that the Catachans would have to be relieved. Kasteen, in true Valhallan fashion, was quick to volunteer her regiment. News came that the regiment would soon be moving to the frontline at about the same time my wounds were healing, which meant that I either had to go with them or pretend to be more hurt than I actually was.

I'd be lying if I said getting shot didn't have a lasting effect on my psyche. I'm proud to say that it didn't change me fundamentally but I wasn't really myself for a short period afterwards. Aside from my moodiness from the Kael-related issues, being shot left me on edge for a few weeks. Some nights I had trouble sleeping, my mind wandering back to those moments of fear and uncertainty inside that warehouse. A shot of amasec usually settled my nerves but during the day I still found my hand shaking at times and I would need another shot just to finish my paperwork. The doctors said one of the shots might have singed some of the nerve roots in my back but frankly I wasn't wholly convinced it was purely physiological. The issue of who shot me still weighed heavily on my mind, even after a couple of weeks. There was no evidence and questions directed to Jydais and his squad turned up nothing useful as expected. I had hoped that Cain, in his ever-perspective ways, would have noticed my preoccupation and intervened but the campaign against the orks had been taking up most of his time and the news of our redeployment left him busier than usual.

The only other person I felt it prudent to talk to was Garrick, the only person in the warehouse whose answers would be brutally honest. He wasn't difficult to find. Since most Astartes live rather routine day-to-day lives, chances were Garrick would be in the same spot he'd been using for practice for the past few weeks. On a normal day it served as a storage room but since its supply of ammunition had been spent, it provided a wide, open space for a marine to keep his skills sharp.

Swinging around his power axe, Garrick was exactly where I had expected to find him and he noticed my arrival immediately. I imagine most Astartes are not used to normal people walking in on them and I believe that had it not been me, he would have thrown the intruder out immediately; maybe even alive but on that point I will accept that I might be wrong.

"Why do you come here Commissar?" Garrick asked with the usual politeness of a space marine.

"I…uh, was hoping to talk to you."

"Talk?" he repeated incredulously. "If you require placation then find a priest. I am a warrior, not a counselor."

"I think that's what I need." He looked at me silently for a moment, cold eyes scrutinizing me carefully.

"Very well, speak your mind," he said, though his reluctance was evident. He probably thought it would be easier just to let me talk than try to argue with me. I'm sure his first thought was to just crush my head like a grape but that likely would not have gone over well with the Lord-General.

"Have you ever been betrayed by someone?" I asked cautiously. It would be a sensitive subject for anybody and while space marines are not the touchy-feely type, I'm sure they prefer to avoid unpleasant subjects just like regular humans.

Once again he was silent, though this time in contemplation rather. "Personally? No. However, I once had to deal with a traitor to the Chapter, which carries the same weight as a personal betrayal."

"And what happened?"

"His name was Zacharius; we were Battle-Brothers in the same squad. He was strong, ambitious, and very proud. He and Brother-Sergeant Tavares did not see eye-to-eye at times. Zacharius accused Tavares of over-looking him on missions, giving the more glorious assignments to other members of the squad while relegating him to the more mundane tasks. He continually failed to understand that the only honour lies in success of the mission, not in one's role in the mission. Our squad was tasked with clearing a stronghold of cultists. Zacharius and I were tasked with maintaining the rear guard while the sergeant and the others went inside and finished the heretics."

"And I take it that Zachy didn't appreciate being told to watch the door?" I remarked.

"Furious, as to be expected, and that was partly the reason I was tasked to hold the rear guard as well. Zacharius, despite his impetuous nature, listened to me to some extent. We were…friends, you could say. Nonetheless, despite trying to keep him calm, after a few hours he finally got fed up and went inside – he said one marine could watch the door just fine."

"I take it things did not go well after he left? It sounds like he did betray you in a way."

"Except his decision had nothing to do with me," Garrick explained. "And it was most certainly nothing against me. Besides, the few soldiers that tried to attack our flank were cannon fodder at best. I had no difficulty in holding the rear guard by myself but that is not the point. He felt he was being snubbed and went to correct it. However, his pride meant he turned his back on his mission and the squad. It did not turn into betrayal until he started killing the other members of the squad in his rage. I do not know how the fight started, only that members of my squad suddenly started dying and when I raced in to assist, I found Zacharius standing over Tavares' broken body. For two days we fought, chasing each other through that stronghold – my only thought that whole time was to bring him to his knees before the Emperor and make him pay for his betrayal against my brothers. I went through all my ammunition and the ammunition I took from my fallen brothers and even several weapons I had taken from fallen heretics. By the end, we were hacking at each other with our combat knives and fists, which, I can tell you from experience, are not an effective means of fighting an opponent wearing power armour." Reading a space marine proved more difficult than I had imagined. At times he sounded angry, other times excited over reliving the memory, and other times I thought I had detected that slight hint of injured pride that often comes with betrayal. I wasn't sure which he was feeling more. By the end, he sounded rather light-hearted about it but I suppose recounting old battles is a favoured activity for space marines.

"No, I imagine it wouldn't be," I said with a faint chuckle. "So…I'm assuming you eventually beat him?"

"Eventually, yes. But I didn't do it alone. One of my Battle-Brothers, as it turned out, had only been wounded and tackled Zacharius while we were deadlocked. While he was knocked to the ground, I ran over to him and brought my boot down as hard as I could on his face. It's not exactly the kind of finishing move you brag about to your Battle-Brothers but it finished the job." I should not have been too surprised with how Garrick resolved betrayal issues within the Astartes. They generally solved every problem by strangling the life from it. If there was a lesson to be had, I wasn't quite sure it'd be the right one for me. Garrick must have noticed my pensive expression as he continued after a long silence, "Betrayal is not something you can just walk away from. If you ignore it, it will stay with you and you will be forever looking over your shoulder. It consumes you with hate and anger and it will cloud your judgment if you let it linger. You must find resolution and confront the betrayer - both Kael and your shooter – if you wish to be able to free yourself from it."

"Do you think…Kael might have shot me?"

"Cain had thought that possibility already," Garrick reassured. "But Kael was picked up from the watchtower you sent him to earlier in the battle. He would have had to run to and from that warehouse without being seen. Given the time constraints and terrain, that would be impossible, even for an Eldar." It also didn't make much sense for Kael to shoot me only to turn around and rescue me a few hours later. If Kael had wanted me dead, there was no doubt in my mind that Kael would've finished the job. "When we parted ways in the warehouse I left the way I had entered – nobody got past me and I did not leave any survivors. Whoever shot you would have had to go through the squad to get to you. Your assailant was definitely from within that squad." While his assessment wasn't a revelation, I had suspected as much already, it was good to know an independent source agreed with me. I thanked Garrick for his time and headed on my way but before I reached the door he stopped me. "There is…something else I had wish to speak with you about," he began sounding peculiarly uneasy. "Before we parted ways, you lost your temper. You were, however…correct. I was quick in rendering judgment and in doing so risked the stability of the mission."

"That…sounds like an apology," I said, wholly confused by this sudden change of heart. "I didn't think space marines apologized."

"Most are too proud to," he explained. "But humility and I have a long history so again…your assessment was correct." That was likely as close to an apology as I would ever get from an Astartes, which is an impressive enough feat in its own, Orks were more likely to say sorry than a space marine. Most marines would rather have killed me and sweep the issue under the rug than actually admit they might have theoretically erred in their haste.

* * *

With Cain and the rest of the regiment redeploying to relieve the Catachans on the front lines, I no longer had a senior commissar ensuring that I was following his instructions to the letter. As such, I decided to put my administrative duties on hold for a little while and take some matters into my own hands. While the Lord-General would have loathed having yet another threat dropped onto his plate, he knew there was little he could do about the Eldar at the present time. As far as we could tell, Kael was the only one and without information to the contrary we had no choice but to assume that an Eldar Warhost was not present on the planet, or at least not actively deployed. Since we could not fight an enemy that we did not even know existed, I took it upon myself to begin investigating our Eldar problem.

Personally, I would have liked to have spent my time investigating who shot me in the back but there were currently no leads or evidence and I did not wish to approach Jydais and his squad without some evidence. If it came down to it, I could easily find an excuse to execute the whole team but I did not want to shoot an innocent man – it would destroy what little reputation I had with the regiment and I ensure that I could look forward to another guardsman giving it a try.

Watz and I headed out on a little excursion into the city, prematurely releasing our centaur from the care of the techpriests (much to their annoyance). Our first stop was to the bar where I had first met Kael. The barkeep seemed to have a history with him so it was as good a place to start as any. Besides, had it not been for the barkeep we would not have suggested that Kael join the war effort, so there was a chance that the barkeep was a co-conspirator. If he was, though, then Kael obviously didn't bother letting the barkeep know that the cat was out of the bag. The barkeep was there when we arrived and one could forgive him for assuming that we were there for drinks. We talked about Kael in general for a few minutes without bringing up his true identity, which told me that the barkeep was either genuinely clueless or was really good at lying. If he did know, he should have realized within the first few minutes why I was talking about Kael and any amateur would've cracked in a heartbeat. I danced around the issue for a while to see if the man would take the bait by accident, asking about Kael's political opinions, any affiliations with civilian organizations, any peculiar behaviour from him in the past few months, and about any other individuals he might have been associated with.

Quite frankly I was surprised by how genuinely clueless the man was about Kael. If they knew each other, it wasn't to the level that I had hoped for. He seemed genuinely surprised when I finally told him that Kael was a traitor (though I left out the xeno detail since in an interrogation you didn't want the enemy to know to what extent your knowledge was). Again, if he knew something he was doing a damn good job of hiding it. Unfortunately, I did not drive across the city to leave empty handed and my patience with the barkeep was beginning to run thin. If he knew nothing then I was wasting my time but if he had some information I was going to get it from him.

"Now answer the commissar's question," Watz politely informed the barkeep while holding the man's hand firmly against the countertop with a laspistol pressed into the palm. It wasn't quite what I meant when I asked Watz to remind the barkeep of the full extent of my authority. Intimidation wasn't one of my favourite tactics (as I was severely lacking in that category) but tightening the screws had loosen the man's lips.

"You honestly expect me to believe that the same man has been coming to your establishment for nearly eight years and you know frak-all about him? I don't appreciate people insulting my intelligence…that's how people get hurt," I said with as much malice as I could make believable.

"He usually kept to himself, I swear!" the barkeep answered with understandable distress. "If we did talk it was about war stories or the local events. All I know is that he lives about three blocks up the street above his workshop. It's got a big wooden sign out front, it's impossible to miss. I swear by the Emperor, that's all I know!"

It wasn't much but it appeared to be all the barkeep knew so I called off Watz and we promptly returned to the centaur. I made a mental note to instruct the local authorities keep tabs on the man for a while, that is if the local authorities were still doing their job in the middle of a warzone.

Kael's residence was exactly where the barkeep had said – walking distance from the tavern and distinguished from the surrounding buildings by the large, hard-carved sign that hung above the door. Once again the care and fine attention to detail was evident even in the craftsmanship of the sign. "Wait a second commissar," Watz stopped me just as I was about to try and get the door open. "There's no way that xeno ditched us and didn't expect us to come snooping around here. It could easily be a trap."

"Are you volunteering to go in first?" I asked, surprised by the bout of selfless initiative.

"Normally I'd recommend Heilmit but he's not here so…might as well," Watz said with an indifferent shrug. If something did explode, chances were it'd take both of us out anyways so it didn't make a difference to me who went in first so I stepped aside and let Watz get to work. The first thing that Kael was definitely prepared for us came when Watz discovered the door had been left unlocked. It wasn't a promising sign but at least it didn't go boom. He headed inside and a few moments later he called out that everything safe. He also mentioned that there was something I should see.

Now struck by curiosity, I quickly headed in and saw Watz standing next to a small end table with a letter propped up against a luminator stick. Nothing out of the ordinary…except that it had my name on it. "Guess he knew I'd be here," I said with a sigh and picked it up. I figured it wasn't going trigger an explosion as Kael hadn't already tried killed us. "Dear Commissar Abel," I began as I read the letter aloud, "I hope you're feeling better. I figured I would to save you time and put everything you'll want in a box on the workshop table. To answer your questions; yes I was the spy; I bare no guilt about Commissar Waffens death, but I am sorry for the pain it has caused you. Many Eldar died at his hands and he has paid for his actions accordingly. And no, I do not know who shot you. Even if I did, though, I would not tell you as it is a matter that you must to solve on your own. I wish you the best of luck on your investigations. PS – feel free to help yourself to anything else in the kitchen. There's no point in letting good food go to waste. Signed, Kael."

"Great, so instead of killing us, he's just mocking us. Personally I'm not sure which I would prefer," Watz said with a hint of annoyance. The workshop mentioned was in a separate section of the building, through a heavy-duty door that had also been left unlocked for us. Inside were a number of workbenches with various tools, stone slabs, and piles of wood scattered throughout. I noticed a lot of the tools showed signs of heavy use, their blades worn and re-sharpened over many years of work. And judging by the amount of stone chips and sawdust that had been swept into the corner, the workshop had seen a lot of use. It was not quite what I had expected to see from the abode of a xeno infiltrator and I got the feeling that there was more to this Eldar than I had anticipated.

I noticed a box full of wooden items and took a closer examination of the contents, "Hmm, these look like…toys," I remarked. One of the ones that caught my eye was a simplistic carving a truck, save for an Aquila that was delicately carved onto the front of the cab.

"Toys? That fiendish bastard," Watz replied, though he sounded more sarcastic than anything. "What do you make of this?" he then asked and pointed out an unfinished stone statue of a woman standing in the corner of the workshop. "I would never be confused for an art critic…but I'd say she's kind of hot."

"Beautiful would probably be a better word Watz," I said as I approached the statue in question. They say a picture is worth a thousand words but I suspect if I had spent every word of this memoir thus far trying to describe the statue it would still fall short of painting a true picture for you. Only the waist up had been finished but what was finished was a beautiful woman immaculately drawn from the stone, head turned partly to the side with long, flowing hair tracing over her shoulder and down her back. I swear I had never before and never since laid my eyes upon something so lifeless…and yet looked as though somebody had truly been frozen in time. Every contour of her frame, every wisp of hair, every feature of her face down to the frozen sorrow in her eyes had been captured in stone. The more I stared at it, the more it looked as though it was moving and breathing like a person. It left me with a strange sense of awe and yet sadness as well.

"This must have taken years," Watz commented, looking more at the physical craftsmanship than I was. "I'm not seeing any kind of tool markings either…it looks like he had sanded it down with his hands."

"It's his wife," I said in a soft mutter when the realization hit me.

"Wife? What makes you say that?"

"It's the way she's posed…how she's turning away but looking back with sadness in her eyes. Can't you feel it too? That empty pang at the bottom of your heart when you look at something that you love with all your soul but you know it can never be yours again…because it's already gone and all you're staring at is a memory." For a brief moment, my faith wavered as I wondered how a being that could sculpt such beauty be really considered an enemy. It was not the kind of art created by a soldier in their pastime but an artist who poured their very soul into their work. I was only able to steady my resolve after recalling the famous words of Abriel Hume, 'Trust not in their appearance, for the Eldar as alien to good, honest men as the vile Tyranid and savage Orks.' Despite what appearances may suggest about him, Kael had been deceiving people for years and undermining our efforts. What he may have been did not change what he was now and right now he was my enemy.

"It's…um, just a statue commissar."

"Ugh…troglodyte…" I grumbled and walked away. "Let's just see what our friend left for us."

As the letter had promised, a box sat on one of the workshop bench and a quick look through it revealed a trove of valuable intel. Among the items were a number of maps, including those of both cities with critical weak points highlighted and notes made in his alien language; a dataslate filled with surveillance photos taken throughout the opening battle as well as what appeared to be the defensive layout of the capital city; a second dataslate filled with intercepted reports from the PDF before and during the campaign; and several data modules containing audio recordings of meetings involving Kael. One of the modules was still inside a vox record so I decided to hit the playback rune to see what kind of conversations he had recorded.

* * *

_I had to call in a few__ favours__ from old friends but I was able to find a transcript of the audio recording I recovered. I've included the most significant part of the one I listened to that day._

_O'Lar'shi_ – Your information was mistaken Eldar. Commissar Cain was not on the transport vessel that you had indicated.

_Kael_ – Are you certain? With those helmets on I'm surprised your troops can tell each apart, let alone one human from the next.

_O'Lar'shi_ – I was there. The only commissar present was a tiny human female. It would have been impossible to have made mistaken her for Commissar Cain.

_Kael_ – A woman? Hmm…perhaps something is interfering with his presence in the Warp.

_O'Lar'shi_ – Perhaps there is something wrong with the source of your information.

_Kael_ – Reading the skeins of fate is not like reading data from your sensor probes. It is difficult even in the best of conditions. My information was correct about the assassination attempt on the governor, remember? And you wanted to just let the man die and conquer the planet.

_O'Lar'shi_ – I lost good soldiers because of those space marines…

_Kael_ – Yes, but now you have the governor's complete trust and you would have lost far more soldiers had you tried to take the planet by force. His trust will go a long way in securing this planet for your empire.

_O'Lar'shi_ – He does not trust me completely.

_Kael_ – Of course not, you're alien regardless of your good intentions. He does not trust you because he does not believe you will be able to fulfill your promises. Once you have destroyed the invader's biggest toy, his faith in your military might will be cemented. I assume you have your forces in position?

_O'Lar'shi_ – Go worry your fortune telling Eldar and I will worry about my forces.

_Kael_ – Just being cautious. As I told you before, I can only offer guidance…I can't make guarantees. Your strength will still need to deliver.

_O'Lar'shi_ – My troops are strong and their resolve unshakable. These humans will know the folly of not yielding to the Greater Good.

_Kael_ – You like saying those words a lot, don't you? (The Tau growls in the background) Just play your part Tau and you will have your victory.

_O'Lar'shi_ – I am curious about one thing, Eldar. There is an old saying among my people, be wary of the ter'vako'la when it comes bearing gifts.

_Kael_ – Still don't trust me? I thought we were beyond that. I suppose you have a point though…altruism is basically dead in this galaxy.

_O'Lar'shi_ – So what do the Eldar seek to gain? My superiors might be convinced by your desire to build bridges between our people but the Aun'vre has not seen your kind on the battlefield. If you are so keen on helping, why do you not simply go to the governor himself? Why the secrecy? I may not be as long-lived as your kind but I am no fool.

_Kael_ – Trusting the Tau is one thing but let's just say if the governor knew I was involved he would rather put this whole world to the torch than take his chances with what he would perceive my presence to be indicative of.

_O'Lar'shi_ – So it is true then? There is no Eldar Warhost on its way?

_Kael_ – As far as Alaitoc is concerned, these dealings do not exist. My…unorthodox methodology is not always appreciated.

* * *

"Pretty damning evidence if you ask me," I commented when I finally turned the vox recorder off. We had spent the past several minutes listening to various recordings but most provided little information save for the one between Kael and the Tau commander. It appeared that the Tau were in league with the Eldar from the very start and it was Kael's hand that guided the governor straight into the xeno's awaiting hands. Still, the evidence could not necessarily be taken at face value. With the Eldar, you could never be sure what you were looking at. While it implicated the Tau, Kael would not have left the evidence for me to find unless he wanted us to act on it. But why reveal that now? Why drive a wedge between our factions after he had helped secure the truce? It was also entirely possible that the evidence was forged, though only an analyst from the Administratum would be able to verify its authenticity.

I suspected that Kael was playing the Tau just as he had played us, playing the helpful guide while stockpiling all the evidence needed to paint the Tau as opportunistic villains. The truce would likely not survive once I brought the evidence to the Lord-General. But was that what Kael wanted? Or did he want me to think that this was what he wanted? I had to short-circuit that train of thought before it spiraled out of control and I broke my brain trying to guess Kael's intent. In the end, despite what I knew about Kael, about the Eldar, and about what he had done, there was nothing I could do except go in the direction the evidence suggested. Whatever game Kael was playing, I strongly suspected that he had already won.

"Hey, look at this Commissar," Watz said, snapping me out of my contemplative cycle. From deeper within the box he pulled out another map. It appeared to be the layout of a military bunker located some distance outside the city. It was a detailed map of the base, its layout, and the surrounding terrain. What caught my eye, however, was a scrawled note in the top corner that said 'You'll find Trevek here' and had a list of coordinates. I studied the map further while Watz continued sifting through the box's contents…until I heard a distinct 'click' sound followed by, "oh frak. Grenade!"

Words were unnecessary by that point. We grabbed what we could, Watz took the map and I snatched the vox recorder, and bolted as fast as we could for the door. We just cleared the doorframe when the grenade went off, vaporizing the box, the workbench, and scattering everything in a ten foot radius.

"Never…trust an Eldar…" Watz panted as we looked back to the scorched crater that used to be the evidence box.

"Still want to…raid the kitchen?"

Watz took a moment to think before shrugging his shoulders indifferently, "Why the frak not? Almost got blown up once already, I doubt he'd try the same trick twice."


	18. EIGHTEEN

**EIGHTEEN**

"So let me get this straight, you investigated Kael's residence _without_ informing us, found a stockpile of evidence covering Kael's activities, and then you somehow managed to get all of the evidence blown up?"

"Yes, sir, that is an accurate summation of what transpired."

As one could imagine, Commissar Cain wasn't very pleased to hear my latest update when I contacted him via vox caster. I would have preferred to have gone straight to the Lord-General with what I had managed to save but my requests had been greeted with casual dismissals followed by repeated explanations that "yes, I really am Commissar Abel and yes I was reported dead but that obviously wasn't the case. Despite my best efforts I simply couldn't bludgeon my way through administrative assistants – they were specially trained to specifically handle persistent individuals, especially persistent, reportedly dead individuals. I tried to think of alternatives to reach the Lord-General but when the only plans I could formulate involved rolls of det-tape, rappel lines, and a shotgun loaded with stun-rounds, I realized that it would be best if I simply contacted Cain. Without Cain's preferential treatment to hitch my wagon, to my reports weren't going to reach the Lord-General regardless of their importance. Since he and the rest of the Valhallans were deployed to the jungles to fight the ork horde, I had to rely on a vox caster that was woefully unreliable and frequently gave my ear the audio-equivalent of a stab with a rusty bayonet.

"That was bloody careless. Do you just enjoy constantly riding shotgun in death's buggie? I could have sworn I told you to stay behind the desk until you were fully rested," Cain replied. His exhaustion was evident even in his poorly transmitted tone. I figured the fighting had been taking a toll on him so I tried to be as polite and civil as I could.

"If it's any consolation, I don't think he was actually trying to kill me," I explained. "I mean, he could have rigged it to explode immediately rather than giving me more than enough time to run away." In hindsight, there were a million different ways that Kael could have rigged his residence to kill me that I probably would have fallen victim to so perhaps Cain did have I point about my recklessness. Kael knew I was coming so everything that happened within that building happened exactly as he planned it. It was likely more of a friendly reminder of just how feeble I was compared to him. I knew his criticism was just his way of showing concern for my well-being (or at least my ability to do all his administrative duties). "I've got evidence that suggests that the Tau have been working with our Eldar spy from the very start, even manipulating the Governor.

"I'm sure the Governor won't be too happy to hear that but do you have any actual good news?"

"What's the matter? Orks giving you a hard time?" I teased.

"More the weather than the greenskins: it's wet, it's cold, and I'm out of frakking tanna, thank you very much. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather just have the good news and we'll worry about the bad when I'm someplace dry." The orks must have been hard-pressed for Cain to be griping about the weather more than the enemy but that was just the kind of hero he was – being up to his neck in orks was just another day to him. I informed Cain about that the evidence also suggested that Kael was acting alone so we wouldn't have to worry about an Eldar raiding party coming in to make a further mess of things and also that I may have location of our rogue colonel. "I'm a little hard-pressed to believe that Kael would just throw you a freebie like that," Cain replied with understandable skepticism. Kael must have scouted out the Adumbrians after he disappeared and left the map for me so it begged the question why Kael was handing them over. I speculated that the Adumbrians likely didn't fit into Kael's grand plans or were an undesirable wild card. However, whatever Kael's reasons were, it didn't change the fact that we still needed Trevek.

Or maybe I just needed Trevek. His antics put me out on the field with a squad that turned around and shot me in the back, so in my mind I felt some of the blame fell on the rogue colonel. Emperor help him if I got to him before the Tau or the Orks do. Plus, like any Kriegan the thought of a traitor escaping justice got my blood boiling.

I asked Cain if I should take the evidence straight to the Lord-General or if it should be handled internally before being passed up the food chain. Time, after all, could be of the essence when dealing with traitors. And the Lord-General did have a lot on his plate without having to chase down rogue colonels and his handful of troopers. "Transmit it to us and Kasteen and I will look over it," Cain suggested.

"It's paper, sir."

"You mean like hand-drawn?"

"Exactly. I don't think it's compatible with a vox caster," I said sarcastically. He told me to send a runner to deliver but I quickly volunteered to deliver it personally. I ended the call before Cain could try to talk me out of it. Despite the comfort of desk work, I had been stuck lying around base for too long and I was itching to get back out onto the field, regardless of how stiff my back was. Cain would probably be angry at me but what was he going to do? Throw me out a window?

* * *

The ride over to the front lines was...wet to say the least. Weather on Magnus Viridis was prone to mood swings but the swing from calm and sunny to torrential downpour was enough to snap your neck. It took less than a minute before I was fitting my gasmask into place just to keep the water out of my eyes. Watz was cussing about the weather for the whole ride, making constant remarks about how the pooling water was bad for the floor plating but I could barely hear him over the pelting raindrops. Passing through reclaimed territory, the scale of the devastation was evident. Most of our dead had been cleaned up but the ork corpses lay where they fell, creating a blanket of green bodies that Watz had to skillfully navigate his way around. The scores of fallen trees, splintered by artillery or plowed down by our tanks, created additional obstacles but I was surprised that despite the apparent degree of deforestation we had inflicted seemed to put only a minor dent in the overall ecosystem. Even weeks after some of the skirmishes, shrubs and saplings were already pushing to the surface and some of the older trees had bark so thick that it could've been classified as living armour. I recall one of the Catachans commenting that the persistence and resilience of the jungle reminded him somewhat of the jungles back on his homeworld, minus the 'tries to kill you at every waking moment' part.

That world makes Krieg seem like a holiday resort.

Field command was in the general state of disarray one would expect from the middle of a military campaign. Gunfire and explosions echoed in the distance, occasionally a stray round from a tank or a mortar impacted a nearby tree, chimeras cycled to and from the front lines carrying the wounded, and Broklaw stood in the middle of it all shouting orders at anybody who passed within sight of him. For such a young executive officer, he had a tight grasp on the situation and never faltered in his command. Like all the soldiers around him, he was saturated from head to toe and I suspect he never once bothered to take shelter in the nearby command tents unless it was to attend to urgent matters. I always admired his willingness to get stuck in the middle of it for reasons other than personal glory.

"You know, a techpriest could probably set up a vox amplifier to get the same effect without you having to stand out here in the rain," I said when the centaur pulled up next to him. He didn't appear surprised to see me at the front, even commenting that he expected me to show up even sooner. What did surprise him was when I asked for directions to Cain, as he had assumed I would be heading for the frontlines rather than meeting with the commander. I explained to him that I had uncovered some interesting facts about our Eldar friend and brought the evidence in for review. I invited him to tag along but he politely declined, citing pressing duties and that he was due to head to the front for a while with the next batch of relief troopers. I wished him the Emperor's protection and headed off to find Cain.

Oddly enough, while I expected I would have to go somewhere near the front to find the commissar, I instead found him in the command tent with Colonel Kasteen and Garrick. The three of them loomed over a large map, using simple blocks of wood and metal to represent troop movements on their hastily assembled strategy table. In fact, everything about the command tent suggested 'rush job' from the crudely strung luminators on a length of steel wire to the bulge on the far wall of the tent due to the presence of a tree that had the audacity to claim its spot first. The interior of the tent, despite the troopers' best efforts, still felt damp as rain dripped through small tears and holes in the overhanging tarp. Strategically placed buckets kept most of the portable electronics dry, including one that sat right on top of the vox caster while its operator had to deal with the occasional drop landing on his head. Even the map had a recaf mug sitting in the center to keep the map dry. Every few minutes Kasteen had to quickly grab the mug and dump its contents, once accidentally nailing a passing vox operator.

"Commissar Abel, I heard you almost got blown up again," Kasteen greeted with a tired smile. "I hope what you found was worth it."

"What are a few brushes with death when it's in the Emperor's name?" I said jokingly as I shook the excess water from my hat. I took the vox recorder from my inner coat pocket and handed it over to Cain. "I'm surprised to see you here, Garrick. I figured you would be up at the front gutting orks."

"These green xenos are barely worth my effort," he replied. "We are still in the early waves, which are full of the smaller runts and gretchins. Their chieftain is trying to soak up our ammunition reserves by throwing the weaklings and feral orks at us before allowing the main horde to counter-attack."

"Normally I wouldn't give a word of praise to a xeno but our Tau allies are doing a good job of funneling them into a narrow kill-zone," Kasteen explained as she directed my attention to the map. "We've got a crossfire set up along these two ridgelines that the orks have been trying to charge through for the past few days. The Tau have been using their Kroot to draw the orks in, at which point we shred them to pieces with heavy bolters and lasguns." Garrick remarked that it was a common tactic for the Tau and suggested Kasteen should prepare for the eventuality that the Orks smarten up and find an alternate route.

Unfortunately, I had to spoil the news with the revelation that the Tau and the Eldar had been in cahoots since the beginning. The coordinates to destroy the incoming supply transports, the ambush against the space marine strike team, saving the governor, probably even the truce, were all done under the advice and guidance of the Eldar. It seemed far-fetched at first but once they listened to the whole of the vox recording the depth of the Eldar influence became obvious. Though the thought had crossed my mind, Cain was the first to comment, "Rather convenient for all the evidence to be sitting on one vox recording. Kael's side of the conversation feels somewhat…staged."

"It's kind of obvious that Kael wanted me to find this," I pointed out. "To what end I don't know but if what he's saying is true then we have to do something about it. The Governor is certainly not going to stand by when he finds out the Tau and the Eldar have been using him."

"That will drive a wedge straight through this truce and we'll be back at each other's throats before the Orks have been dealt with," Garrick said even though I half-suspected he would prefer if that were the case. "We should hold onto the information and deal with it after the orks have been dealt with and we can focus on our attention on the Tau."

"I never thought I'd see the day where a space marine preferred allying with the xenos over fighting them all at once," I remarked.

"If I had a company of my brothers at my side I would gladly strike at the Tau, Orks, and traitors alike, but I am the last of my squad and the honour of my fallen brothers rests on my shoulders. This mission _cannot_ fail – this planet must be returned to the Emperor."

"I thought that so long as an Astartes falls in battle and duty then it is considered an honourable end," Cain commented with some confusion.

"For some Chapters that may be considered sufficient," Garrick snapped back, clearly irked by Cain's remarks. "But for the Black Watch, honour comes in the success of the mission. There is always glory to be had in battle but our missions come from the Chapter Master, which in turn come from the Emperor's will: to fail the mission means to fail the Emperor and there is no greater shame than that. I stand with my brothers in life and in death…I will not allow their final mission to be that of disgrace, even if it means I must sacrifice some of my own honour."

"That's certainly…um, noble," Cain remarked, voicing the same degree of confusion that Kasteen and I shared. Since I had never met a space marine in person I had no idea what the 'average marine' was like unless I took the rumours into account. Some people described spaces marines as somewhat barbaric and bloodthirsty but after meeting Garrick I got the impression that Chapters could be radically different from one another in terms of ideology.

"The Emperor is strong, wise, and righteous…we believe in emulating those traits. Personally, I find some chapters seem to focus mostly on the first one," Garrick answered with a hint of pride. As informative as it was, we were getting distracted from the important matter at hand but before I could raise a voice to redirect the discussion, one of the vox operators suddenly for Kasteen's attention. He reported, with great urgency, that the Orks were pressing hard in sector R-17. Judging by Cain and Kasteen's concerned expression, this was significant and not in the 'blundering into our minefields' kind of way. Apparently that was the sector that our regiment's allotment of Adumbrians were located, which meant our weakest link was about to be hit by the crude, brutish hammer of the Ork mob.

"Cain, Garrick – gather as many able bodies from the rest station as you can and reinforce that sector," Kasteen instructed. While technically she had no authority over either of them, the three soldiers were already on the same page and knew the importance of keeping our battleline from being cut into ribbons. It was more of an iteration of the fact than an actual order, regardless of how it sounded to the casual observer. If anything the Adumbrians needed something (or more specifically, someone) to rally behind if their line was to hold. This unexpected interruption, however, worked in my favour as it took Cain out of the room and gave me an opportunity to speak with Kasteen alone. I knew Cain would object with what I had in mind but it was something I had to deal with on my own terms, not his. His concern for my well-being (and the workload my death would bring about) would be at the front, not to mention a harsh scolding for considering such a reckless strategy. I like to think that he would have done something similar, though, were he in my position.

"Colonel Kasteen, I think Kael also found the whereabouts of Colonel Trevek," I began as I took out the map and laid it out across the table. "From what I can tell by the map layout, it appears to be an old monitoring station. This approach here should provide enough cover for somebody to approach on foot. Now given the numbers of casualties we inflicted, he shouldn't have more than a few squads left for protection. If we hit fast and hard, we should be able to pin him down before he gets a chance to flee." PDF or not, a colonel still had a solid grasp of tactics and stratagem, so my best bet was a rushing attack that overwhelmed the inexperienced troopers before the colonel could reorganize his defense.

Kasteen took a long look at the map, lifting it up partly on occasion to glance at the larger map underneath. However, she let out a discouraged sigh that did not leave me feeling confident in her answer. "With all due respect Commissar, I know the business with Trevek is ugly and maybe a bit personal but I don't have the manpower to spare just to get back at him because one of his men shot you-"

"It wasn't one of his," I quickly interrupted. The truth of my injuries being friendly-fire was a tightly kept secret – if I made it seem like I had passed it off as a normal battlefield injury then my assailant wouldn't be on edge and, hopefully, wouldn't see me coming for him until it was too late. Her eyes furrowed when she realized what I was implying. No commanding officer liked to hear the suggestion that one of their own is a back-stabbing (or shooting in this case) traitor. I wasn't sure at first if the anger was directed at me for the implication or the thought of a traitor in her ranks. "Somebody in Sergeant Jydais' squad tried to kill me. I need to find out who it was."

Kasteen's expression softened to one of sympathy, her eyes meeting mine briefly before taking another look at the map of Trevek's alleged hideaway. "How many men would you need?"

"His squad should be sufficient."

"I'm assuming you haven't passed this insane plan of yours by Cain? You do realize that whoever shot you will realize what's going on?"

"That is exactly what I'm hoping for," I said with a sly smirk. "I'm hoping whoever shot me will be so on edge he'll give himself away or make a desperate attempt to finish the job. This time around, he shouldn't catch me off-guard."

It was an insanely risky plan, even by my standards, but it was the quickest way to the best solution and it could also solve the Trevek issue at the same time – kill two heretics with one shot as the saying goes. Kasteen wasn't entirely convinced my sanity was up to scratch nor overridden by a desire for revenge but she realized the situation we both were in. "If I said no, you'd just pull the commissarial card out, wouldn't you?"

"I could just execute the entire squad and save myself the trouble," I suggested none too subtly. "All it would cost me is a bit of time to fill out the paperwork." While I much preferred having a reputation of being fair and even-handed in the regiment, I had no intention of letting my assailant escape justice (let alone my wrath) or go through the painfully long and tedious investigation process that would likely yield inconclusive results. If I waited for the enemy to the job for me I would never have the resolution of confronting the person face-to-face. The idea of killing a few innocent men to get to the guilty party was unpalatable but it was better than being left with uncertainty. I disliked having to twist Kasteen's arm in such a manner – I had a great deal of respect for her as an officer, which was saying a lot considering how most officers I met tended to be pretentious blowhards or gung-ho hard-asses.

Kasteen eventually let out a defeated sigh even though she knew the outcome well before admitting it. "It'll take me a few minutes to get Jydais' squad back here. In the meantime, head to the aid station and see if you can find a carapace vest."  
"Thanks Kasteen."

* * *

It was probably one of the rare times where I was actually visibly pleased to see Jydais, who meandered begrudgingly into the command tent. Scowls and frowns were aplenty when they saw me and I hoped my grinning visage greeting them provided even more indignation. While typically I would watch my step around Jydais and his men, on this occasion I wanted them to be irritated with me. It would be a delicate matter, however, since I didn't want to rile them up so much that each of them would want to put a round in my backside but just enough to get the guilty party to be willing to risk another murder attempt. I needed to make the bulls-eye on my back an ever-increasingly tempting target for him.

I had five suspects to deal with: Sergeant Jydais, Corporal Corial, Trooper Ingrut, Trooper Lalee, and Trooper Malakan. Each one had means, motive, and opportunity so I had a difficult task ahead of me. Jydais, as I had mentioned before, used to be a captain until his brother was executed for cowardice and the commissariat stripped him of his rank. Corial was a troublemaker who was slated to be executed by the regiment's previous commissar before a tyranid attack gave him the opportunity to redeem himself and removed the aforementioned commissar. Ingrut supposedly shot a commissar already, though all I knew about the incident was rumour and conjecture. Lalee, though estranged from his father, was often viewed by commissars and officers with a hint of suspicion due to his father's heretical history, which only further bolstered his general disregard for authority figures and loner mentality. And Malakan…well, I had shoved a pistol in his face and threatened to blow his brains out so I guess it would be safe to suggest that I had been crossed off his Emperor's Day gift list.

After explaining the mission to them and listening to Jydais make his usual remarks about how I would just get in the way, I politely told the sergeant and his team to shut the hell up and listen to my instructions. I was half-tempted to add in some threats of execution if we failed but I didn't need to give them _that_ much incentive to kill me.

"Any questions?" I asked after the briefing.

"Is there a particular reason you decided to take us or do you just like screwing with us?" Jydais asked with a clear tone of annoyance and contempt.

"Well, since you and your team performed so admirably the last time we fought against Trevek's men, I figured a repeat performance was in order," I replied. In hindsight, I probably should have worded that better as Jydais gave me a quizzical glare that made me think, for a brief moment, I thought I might have given my intentions away prematurely.

"Guess we don't have a choice unless we want to be executed," he muttered. "Is that all, Commissar?" I nodded and told them to meet me at the centaur. Since it was raining outside, I made sure to take my sweet time in making my final preparations. As Kasteen had suggested, I had earlier stopped by the aid station and found a carapace vest that it's former owner would no longer be requiring (she lost both of her legs to a rocket). It was a bit loose but given my tiny frame I would have been more surprised if I had found one that fits. Thankfully, with the commissarial coat overtop, the vest was barely noticeable and I removed a few unnecessary layers of clothing to aid in the concealment. It was moments like those, as I squeezed into my armoured corset, that I was glad that I was never well-endowed in that particular region of my body. Breathing would have been a real challenge if I had been top-heavy.

When I finally arrived at the centaur, Jydais and his squad were as soaked as humanly possible and grumbling bitterly about my lack of punctuality. "About damn time you showed up," Jydais quipped. "Next time we're just going to leave without you."

"And yet you stayed all the same," I replied and motioned for everybody to climb aboard. A centaur had limited passenger room but with me sitting up front with Watz, there was enough space for Jydais and his squad to sit. It also kept me relatively dry and left them exposed to the rain. The drive was quiet enough; a few of the troops chattered idly in the back while I monitored the vox channels for updates on the fighting in Cain's neck of the woods. Things were going well as to be expected. Kasteen had assigned the Adumbrians the easiest sector of the jungle to defend – a high, steep ridgeline with a lot of open ground for the Orks to traverse. Had they not been such greenbacks, I doubt Cain would have even wasted his time.

After almost an hour of driving through the jungle, Watz brought the vehicle to a halt. "Okay kiddies, we're walking the rest of the way," I ordered and motioned for them to file out. I was about to join them when Watz held me back for moment.

"I really think this is a bad idea ma'am," he whispered. "At least let me go with you so I can watch your back."

I appreciated his concern, maybe even felt a little flattered, but I brushed his hand off with a reassuring smile. "If you're hanging around, he'll likely bunker down and never reveal himself. Don't worry…I'll be careful."

"A little late on the worrying part," he grumbled.

"Sorry mum," I teased before climbing out to join Jydais and the others. There was still a little over a mile to travel on foot but with the dense jungle we could get right up to their front door before they noticed us. We traveled in a staggered line with Lalee as usual in the lead and I kept to the rear – there was little chance of us getting attacked from the rear so I was relatively safe in the back. I didn't want to put my back to any of these people, at least not yet. Though irritated with me, the soldiers quickly focused on the mission. I secretly hoped that the guilty party would keep glancing back to me out of nervousness but the steely nerves of the veteran squad eliminated that faint hope. It was too early and too obvious for a betrayal but, I kept my laspistol and shock maul out just in case.

After a long walk through the jungle, Lalee signaled for us to keep low. Signs of man-made structures were visible in the distance – the distinct gray hues of rockrete walls and the shimmer of road-side luminators. What worried me, though, was the sight of a treaded metal hull, which bore the Adumbrian colours on the side. I knew they still had some of their chimeras, and Ingrut had a meltagun slung across his back for just such an emergency, but I had hoped to avoid running right into one. I ordered everyone down while Lalee went ahead for a closer look.

"Transport doesn't look active," Lalee reported a few minutes later through the comm-bead. "Couple of troopers chatting on the rear hatch. I'm taking them out," Technically, he should've asked for permission before firing however it was expected because that loner mentality is what had made him a problem for commanders. When I later reminded him of that detail, he merely shrugged me off with indifference and carried on with his business. At least he wasn't as disrespectful as the rest of the squad…just indifferent. After Lalee gave the all-clear, we continued forward, quickly passing by the chimera on our way to the rockrete and chain-link fencing surrounding the observation post. I cast a glance briefly to the two soldiers Lalee had taken down. Both had holes blown through their helmets and I suspected that Lalee was not the traitor – had it been him, he would've put a neat and tidy hole in the center of my skull. That meant I could keep a closer eye on the other four suspects.

The observation post consisted of about four small bunker-like buildings surrounding a central tower. The bunkers in the east, south and west were linked by a single long hallway. The central tower was joined by a single corridor to the northern and final bunker. Entering through the east building would allow us to clear the three buildings quickly. Then we would clear the last bunker and drive to the center without having to leave a hole for Trevek to slip through. Unless he wanted to make an escape run over open ground. I was hoping our speed and the induced confusion would keep him from making that choice.

Ingrut began unraveling some det-tape along the chain-link fence to prepare our entrance. Once we stormed the interior things were going to get real noisy real fast. "Here's our game plan," I began, "once fence is breached we split into two teams. Corial, Lalee, and Malakan will circle around to the right while Jydais, Ingrut, and I will head left. We clear any sentries, meet up at the east bunker entrance, breach the doorway, clear the bunker and then move rapidly to the next. We'll repeat the process at the north bunker. The only people we want alive are Colonel Trevek and Commissar Stimpsen."

"Det-tape is all primed sarge," Ingrut reported, intentionally snubbing me even though this was my operation. I gave the signal to begin our assault. With a sharp bang, the det-tape shredded the chain-link fence and our doorway was opened. Since I didn't want to make it obvious I was holding back just to keep an eye on everybody, I made sure I wasn't the last one through and jumped the low rockrete wall just ahead of Lalee, who I figured to be the safest bet. As expected, a handful of Adumbrian troopers rushed out to investigate the commotion but the lack of cover and our superior firepower meant the traitor guardsmen were gunned down in a blaze of lasfire. We moved quickly to cover the open ground, rushing around the corners and making it to the rally point with minimal resistance.

"Ingrut, blow the door," I instructed. We stacked alongside the door while he primed a breaching charge. The resulting explosion blew the door off its hinges, crushing the dumb sod who happened to be standing on the other side. With speed and precision, Jydais' veteran squad rushed in and began firing at anyone in Adumbrian colours. As time was off the essence, once the first room was clear we split into two teams again and began to fight out way through the bunkers. Inside, with more cover and narrow corridors, our advance was continually stalled by clusters of traitors firing wildly down the corridors. A well-tossed frag grenade quickly remedied those situations when they arose. The fighting proved to be slightly tougher than I had anticipated but in hindsight I should have realized that backing my enemy into a corner meant they were fighting for their lives. Clearing through the northern and last bunker, Ingrut's frag grenade killed and wounded most of the remaining trooper, and I decided to rush in ahead with my shock maul ready. The first traitor I came across, bleeding profusely from cuts across his face, couldn't even see me approaching through the blood, let alone defend himself as I stoved his head in with a swift blow. A second man, who seemed to be crazed from shellshock, rushed me with his bayonet (rather than just shooting me which would have made more sense). I was able to bat the weapon aside, narrowly dodging the tip of the bayonet, before driving a fully-charged blow straight into his gut. The scream is short-lived as his body curled into the fetal position as it fell. Though his body twitched sporadically his life was quite over. I couldn't help but notice how young he was…probably not much older than I. Normally I would have felt a slight pang of pity for the lost soul but I reminded myself that stupidity had delivered him to his fate and if anything I was doing the Imperium a favour by removing him from the gene pool.

"Lalee to Commissar Abel," a voice shot through my comm-bead. It took me a moment to realize that he was talking to me since nobody else in the squad seemed to give a damn about me, let alone acknowledge my authority in the mission. "We've reached the final junction but it seems like the door has been locked down. However, we did find somebody you'll probably want to meet."

With the way clear and my steps motivated by curiosity, I hurried ahead to meet with Lalee to see who was waiting for me. Since there were only two people we wanted alive, and Lalee didn't mention our mission being complete, I guessed correctly in my assumption that Commissar Stimpsen had been found. When I arrived, the Lalee and Corial were examining the door while Malakan stood watch over an extremely anxious commissar. "We found him clawing at the door…looks like his 'friends' locked him out," Malakan explained with a hint of smug satisfaction. Given the squad's contempt for commissars, they were enjoying every moment of watching Stimpsen squirm. Frankly, I was surprised they had kept him alive for me.

"I should just knock you out and save myself the grief but as a commissar I'll give you an opportunity to explain what went through that idiot head of yours to make you think that nearly killing Commissar Cain and Lord-General Zyvan was a good idea. Why sabotage our efforts to save this planet?" I asked sternly, switching my shock maul to its lower setting just in case I needed to provide some motivation.

Obviously, he didn't take kindly to insults and accusations I wasn't surprised to see that he had little to offer other than generic, inflamed rhetoric. "Lie to yourself if you'd like, but Commissar Wren knew the truth; Ciaphas Cain is a coward and a liar. He and the rest of you would rather sell this planet to the Tau than fight the enemies of the Emperor! When the Commissariat hears of this, they'll have you both stripped of your titles and shot for treason."

He prattled on a bit longer about how our regiment was providing aid and comfort to the enemy, how Cain was cowardly avoiding his duties as commissar and duping the Lord-General to do his bidding, and how I was a lapdog bitch for doing Cain's dirty work in silencing 'the righteous few.' Over my career I had been called a great many things in Gothic, alien, and daemonic tongues, and I have always tried to take it in stride. Part of the job involved getting on people's nerves and on the battlefield it was only a good day for me if I made it a horrible day for my enemy. However, I never took very kindly to being called a bitch and I expressed my discontent with a gentle tap from the shock maul. "You and Commissar Wren have abused the authority granted to you by the office of the Commissariat; you have misled the troops entrusted to your watch; you have opened fire upon the soldiers and officers of His Majesty's Imperial Guard; and most importantly, that was no way to speak to a lady."

"Stupid bitch…" he muttered once he caught his breath. Since Stimpsen was clearly a slow learner I gave him some positive (or negative depending on which end of the shock maul you happen to be at) reinforcement to dissuade further cussing.

"Lucky for you, I don't have time to stand here and beat the stupid out of you," I said. "Lalee, how's that door coming?"

"Faster if you weren't distracting me right now," he snapped back. The doorway from the north bunker leading to the central bunker appeared to be sealed tightly and with a solid metal construct we weren't going to be blasting our way through it. However, if the schematics were correct, there was also no way out save going through us. It took a few minutes and a liberal amount of swearing but Lalee and Corial finally hacked the door controls and the way opened up. However, no sooner did the door open did we hear the distinct and terrifying 'ting' of a frag grenade skipping down stairs. The explosive bounced a few more times before rolling through our group and coming to a halt a few feet in front of me. The troopers were scattering for cover but in such a confined space the fragmentation blast was going to take out everybody. Without drastic action, we were all going to be severely maimed or worse. With that in mind, I have no regrets over what I did. Striking Stimpsen in the back of the knee dropped the fat commissar to my level, allowing me to push him onto the grenade with me on his back. Just to keep him firmly pressed against the ground. I shut my eyes and prayed to the Emperor that this wasn't just something that worked in the holo-vids.

There was a muffled bang as Stimpsen's body shook but when I opened my eyes I discovered that I was completely unharmed. The same, of course, couldn't be said for the now, late Commissar Stimpsen. "Well…that was close," I said with a sigh of relief as I got back to my feet.

"Way to valiantly shove the prisoner onto a grenade," Jydais remarked with a mixture of sarcasm and faint amusement.

"He was a dead man either way, I figured his unwilling sacrifice might earn him some mercy when he stands before the Emperor," I answered. Unfortunately, killing a fellow commissar also meant I'd have to fill out a huge amount of paperwork justifying my actions to the Commissariat. I could've said he just tripped and saved myself the grief but I was way too honest for my own good. "Anyways, now that the surprises are out of the way we can finish this mission and go home," I said as I headed for the stairs, scooping up Stimpsen's cap in the process. "They're shouldn't be many left…the rest of you stay down here. Trevek and I have a personal score to settle."

In actuality, I would've preferred to have left the final bunker to the troopers but I needed to present an ideal opportunity for my betrayer to show himself: alone in the observation bunker potentially surrounded by hostile forces. Anybody wanting to kill me wouldn't let such a juicy opportunity like this slip past them. Of course, that still left the slight challenge of dealing with any stragglers still in the tower. If I was lucky, it'd just be Trevek and a handful of troopers. However there was also the chance I could be blundering straight into a trap. In hindsight, I realize that my desire to flush out the traitor was propelling me to take unwarranted risks. That and the fact that I had committed to the action in front of the troopers prevented me from backing out as that move would forever tarnish what little reputation I possessed. Cautiously, I crept up the stairs, which were numerous and did several laps around in the interior of the tower, but stopped just shy of entering the upper chambers. It appeared to be a wide open room but there was nobody ahead – even an idiot would know to take cover and wait for the enemy to walk into the open. Sticking Stimpsen's cap onto the end of my maul, I slowly extended it into view and right on cue, several lasbolts skimmed across the doorway knocking the hat off its perch.

Gauging by the volume and frequency, the shooter was close and there was only one who fired. Perhaps fortune was on my side for a change. But now he knew I was on my way and would better prepare for my arrival. I needed Trevek alive so tossing in a grenade was out of the question so my only option was to rush in and hope that my carapace vest protected me.

"Make this easy on yourself Trevek and just surrender," I called out, hoping that cooler heads would prevail. A fool's hope but hope nonetheless.

"Why? So you can string me up and parade me around town?" he shouted back. His voice was very close by.

"I know Commissar Wren coerced you to cooperate…fed you half-truths about righteousness and an officer's duty. They took advantage of your off-world inexperience. Yes, what you did was stupid but you were manipulated into doing what they wanted. If you surrender and explain yourself, the Commissariat may show leniency."

"Would you show any?" He scoffed.

Once again my inability to lie at a critical moment left me in a difficult situation. Lies were used to manipulate and required a precise, delicate touch. I had a tendency to be about as delicate and precise carpet bombing. "No, I probably wouldn't. You won't be walking away from this. But what you have a choice over is how you're remembered."

"Remembered?" he said with a stifled laugh. "I was neither stupid nor malicious enough to earn any real prominence. I doubt anyone will even remember my name a year from now, regardless of what I do here today. I might as well just save you the effort and me the embarrassment…" For a brief moment, I thought I might have succeeded in convincing Trevek to surrender without a fight. Technically, I had succeeded, just not in the way that I had planned. I realized it a second too late and I barged into the upper chamber just in time to see Trevek splatter his brains across the wall. In doing so, he prevented news of his actions from spreading very far or very fast, which was something a military tribunal would have done. Instead word would spread mostly by mouth as campaign notes and after-action reports tend to get swallowed up by information black hole known as the Administratum. However, he was wrong about one thing: I never forgot his name. I still use his story as a cautionary lesson for my cadets against the importance of maintaining good relations with other commissars. All too often vindictive commissars use their regiments as tools to lash out at rivals and adversaries, occasionally putting the whole campaign in jeopardy.

Standing over Trevek's remains, I could not help but feel anger as I was about to walk away accomplishing none of my goals. I was about to go on a cursing spree that would have made a grizzled naval captain blush when I heard footsteps coming from the stairwell. I had received no word about somebody coming up so it had to be my mystery shooter. I took position next to the chamber entrance, laspistol drawn, and waited for the man to show himself. Anxiousness began to wreak havoc with my nerves and I had to steady my laspistol with my free hand. A helmeted figure finally emerged through the doorway and my resolve suddenly hardened. All I could think of at that point was the pain and hate I felt towards the man.

"Weapon on the ground and hands where I can see them," I spoke as I leveled my weapon at his head. I had caught him looking away from me so it took him a moment to look my way and realize the gravity of the situation. I was finally face-to-face with the guardsman that tried to kill me. "Don't act so surprised Malakan."

"Commissar…w-what are you-?"

"Don't play stupid," I hissed. "I know why you're here and I've suspected for some time it was you who botched my execution."

Finally confronted, he didn't play the innocent role for very long. His eyes furrowed but he didn't make any sudden movements, instead he complied with my instructions and set his lasgun on the ground. Unfortunately, just as his gun touched the ground he suddenly charged forward, tackling me to the ground and knocking the gun out of my hand. My shots whipped over his shoulder and out into the stairwell. Like most men, he had size, reach, and strength on his side and my situation deteriorated rapidly as he pinned me to the floor. My attempts to squirm free were met with repeated blows to the face. He clearly thought he had me beat as he continued punching me in the face rather than just finishing me off. I made sure to exploit that mistake, lowering my arms and giving him a free shot at my head. While he was raising his fist to strike again I was pulling out my shock maul and thumbing it to low power. Shock mauls were a great defensive weapon when you lacked physical strength but it has a major shortcoming. Specifically, you can't use the weapon if your opponent is in physical contact with you, at least if you didn't want to get electrified too. I had little alternative so I mentally braced myself and jabbed Malakan with the business end. It worked with the expected results and left us both twitching on the ground in pain. Even on a low setting, a shock maul would leave the average human out of a fight for several minutes, which meant my best chance for survival rested with another member of the squad coming up to the chamber and saving me.

"Malakan you bloody idiot," a voice suddenly shouted as footsteps heralded another trooper's arrival. Actually, it marked two as both Ingrun and Corial stepped through the doorway. Corial's words were none too reassuring when compounded by the fact that neither appeared to be in any hurry to help me. Apparently I didn't have just one trooper wanting me dead, I had three. "I swear, you can't seem to do anything right."

"Heh, looks like Abel zapped herself out too," Ingrun said as he leaned down to take a closer look at me. There was a definite smirk of satisfaction plastered across his face though there was little I could do at the moment except try to develop enough psychic powers to make his head explode. It was an impossible task, of course, even without the interference of Ingrun kicking me in the face. "Frakking commissars…always messing things up," he said just before his boot met my head. "Cain at least kept his distance but you had to come along, frak things up, and get Seppala killed."

"Would you knock it off and just shoot her already, we're wasting time up here," Corial snapped while he helped still-buzzed Malakan back to his feet.

Just as Ingrun was about to comply, a long-las barrel tapped against the side of his helmet and took his attention elsewhere. "Make a move and I drop you," Lalee spoke calmly with a slight hint of bitterness to his voice.

"Same goes for you corporal," Jydais added as he stepped into the chamber and raised his hellgun at Corial and Malakan.

"Come on Isaac, you can't be serious," Corial replied, clearly as surprised as I was by the sergeant's actions. "You of all people should understand. This is for Seppala, she-"

"_She_ did her damn job…and so did Seppala. Now stand down!" We were at a stand-off and unfortunately I was the only one without a gun in the equation. However, while all eyes were focused on the people with guns, I was slowly inching my hand towards my back-up laspistol.

Finally, one of the soldiers finally decided that Jydais was bluffing. "You're not going to shoot us sarge," Ingrun said. He must have been counting on the years they served together to be worth more than my miserable life but whether he was right or not didn't matter; when he looked back to me, I had just finished drawing my laspistol. I put two shots through the chest without hesitation.

"Damn bitch!" Corial shouted in rage as he aimed his lasgun at me. Surprisingly, Jydais wasn't bluffing as he blasted Corial and Malakan with a long burst from his hellgun. In less than ten seconds, it was all over. I had found, confronted, and dealt with the people who had tried to kill me. My victory did not quite feel like a victory but that could easily be attributed to the repeated blows to my head.

Jydais walked over to me and stared down at what I assumed to be my pounded, bloodied face. He didn't appear to be in a hurry to help me either but at least he didn't have a gun pointed to my head. "This is why you should just wait in the vehicle," he remarked with that 'I told you so' tone. I would've kicked him in the crotch if I had the strength left to do so. "A kid like you has no place on a battlefield."

"Just shut up and help me up," I muttered. He motioned for Lalee to give me a hand and while my head was still aching, once I was on my feet I was able to stay upright. There was still one thing on my mind, other than how much it hurt. "Okay, I give…why didn't you just let them shoot me?"

Jydais glared at me for a moment, an annoyed look across his face. "Do you really take me for some kind of idiot?" he replied. "You think I hadn't figured out what kind of stunt you were trying to pull here? Besides, Colonel Kasteen would have gladly placed my head on a pike if I came back without you. Get one thing straight, I don't like you or any other commissar…but I am no traitor."

Even after all the years I've known him, I've still never quite figured that man out. Despite attitude problems, almost every soldier in the regiment would gladly follow him into the Warp and back. He was a non-com who genuinely watched out for his squad regardless of the cost to himself or his career. I had seen him brave bolter fire, shuriken cannons, ork mobs, and even dance with a Chaos dreadnaught to save his fellow guardsmen…but I guess even a man as contemptuous as him had a line he would not cross. I was simply (and silently) grateful that I stood firmly on the other side of that line.

Lalee helped me back out the centaur, where Watz had a fit when he saw the state I was in. His nagging was the only voice during the entire trip back to the base camp. I had a lot to think about on the way…many of which left my mind sober but in desperate need for a drink.


	19. NINETEEN

**Nineteen**

If I had any hope of quietly slipping back into the field camp unnoticed, they were dashed when Watz called ahead on the vox for a medic to meet us at the aid station. While I insisted that a medic was unnecessary (not to mention I felt my injuries were low priority compared to the scores of wounded troopers), Watz was insistent that I get cleaned up before reporting in to Kasteen. A commissar's efficiency depended heavily on their appearance, more specifically on how intimidating they looked. Most veteran commissars, with their numerous facial scars and biotic implants, could do that while dressed in pink lace. I, on the other hand, lacked the intimidation factor and Watz thought it would be damaging for the troops to see me in my current, bloodied state. I didn't realize how bad I was until he handed me a mirror.

Cain summed it up best when he said, "You look like somebody who just went three rounds of bare-knuckle with an ogryn." Those were his first words when stepped into the aid station several minutes after my arrival. Somebody must have sent word to him, as he didn't appear the least bit surprised at my bloodied state. Despite the crowded conditions of the tent and the dozens of medics, field surgeons, and orderlies zipping about, Cain and I managed to have our conversation with little intrusion save for the medic tending to my injuries. "There's still a spot of bootprint on your forehead," he added.

I managed a brief smirk before the anti-septic the medic was applying made me wince sharply. He was cleaning a gash on my forehead left by Corial's size eleven wafflestompers (the waffle in this instance being my face), which I hadn't noticed until Watz remarked that I was bleeding on the seats. "Trust me, I feel better than I look," I insisted. "What are you doing back already? Did you sort the Adumbrians out already?"

"It wasn't nearly as bad as their vox operator made it seem," Cain said dismissively. "The Orks were attacking in force but the Adumbrians just needed to be reminded to hold fast and keep firing. Things improved greatly once Garrick jumped headlong into the Ork mob." The steep incline of the ridgeline the Adumbrians were defending kept the Orks at a distance and made them easy targets for our troopers. Why the Orks thought an attack at that point would work any better was a complete mystery but it wasn't as if Orks thought things through before committing. Cain, as is his nature, refrained from talking of his own exploits during the battle and it wasn't until some time later that I heard about how he single-handed charged down the ridge to attack a cluster of Orks in order to save a stranded squad. Heilmit, who was at the battle, said it looked more like a 'slip and fall' than a 'single-handed charge' but I doubt Cain could have ever been that clumsy. "Now, Colonel Kasteen tells me that you concocted an elaborate scheme to oust your shooter. Should I list the number of reasons why that was completely insane?"

"With all due respect, half the plans you undertake are completely insane."

"And I assure you that they are done out of duty and necessity, not because I enjoy the frequent waltzes with death. What you did was for little more than your personal vendetta."

"Cain, have you ever had your own people shoot you in the back?" I snapped in a far more defensive tone than I would normally considering taking with him.

"No, but not for a lack of trying," he replied.

"I could barely sleep afterwards…" I admitted reluctantly, "not with the knowledge that they were still out there. What sleep I did manage to get was only when I had a laspistol firmly in hand. This wasn't just a personal vendetta, sir…this was to save me from myself." One night I even had to drink myself to sleep but my pride kept me from admitting that I had that much difficulty. Truth be told, sleeping didn't get much easier even after I had confronted my attackers but considering the many other highlights of my career, I'm surprised I can still sleep at all.

A sympathetic look fell upon Cain and he nodded slowly – he understood what I had gone through better than I had hoped. "Are these insane plans going to be a regular occurrence for you?" he asked sarcastically. "If they are, I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on you."

I laughed and said, "I'll try to dial down the insanity but I can't guarantee there won't be the occasional excursion into the absurd. You know how we Kriegans can be, once we set our minds on getting something done, we don't care what it takes to finish." While it's undeniably true that 'crazy plans' became a mainstay of my military career, in my defense they were often very successful and most of the time I got out of them unharmed. And it wasn't as though Cain didn't have insane plans either; his were merely improvised insanity as opposed to my planned-out insanity. However, insanity whether planned or spontaneous is still insanity cause when you walk up to a horde of Chaos daemons wearing nothing but a two-piece, pink bodyglove, armed with a bouquet of flowers and a single frag grenade; you're better off having things planned out in advance because you're not going have time to think clearly once the the music begins. "Since chastising me could easily have waited until after I got cleaned up, I take it there's something more important to tell me."

"I see the head blows didn't impair your deductive skills," Cain replied as he nodded. "Get yourself sorted here quickly and then meet me and Kasteen in the command tent in ten minutes."

While I would have preferred to find someplace quiet to take a nap for a while, I settled with Watz scrounging up some recaf while the medic finished cleaning up my face. He managed to find me a half-full mug of luke-warm recaf by the time I reached the command tent. It tasted like crap but it was better than nothing and it gave me something to preoccupy myself with while I listened to Kasteen and the others talk. For the second time that day I found myself standing around the large wooden table beneath the dripping tarp with unfurled maps stretched from end to end. Commissar Cain and Garrick were present as well as an unfamiliar face that I learned later belonged to a Catachan scout. Given the scout's size and the amount of green camo paint on him I probably would've mistaken him for an Ork had it not been for the lack of cussing and indiscriminate mayhem.

"So what's got everybody so excited?" I asked as I approached the table.

"It appears that Commissar Cain's instincts have proven to be accurate," Garrick explained, though it didn't help me in the least understand why the obvious excitement.

"Aye and if we don't hurry quickly, the Orks are gonna have us all by the daddybags," the scout added.

"Okay, new girl is still confused," I piped up.

"Cain suspected that the Ork attack may have been more than just another poorly planned assault," Kasteen said as somebody finally took the time to explain things in more detail to me. "He suggested we send scouts out to see if we can find any sign of greater Ork activity."

"I figured if Kael has been playing both the Tau and us since the beginning, there's a good chance he's been doing the same with the Orks," Cain then added. "Being fairly dim and superstitious, it wouldn't be difficult for Kael to plant suggestions into the minds of the Ork leaders, prompting them to attack at the time he needs us preoccupied. A concentrated attack on our weakest point would distract us without having to commit a lot of forces. Unfortunately, what our scouts have found is far more troubling than I had imagined."

Cain gave the floor to the scout, who directed my attention back to the map. "Remember the river that the Lord-General figured we could use to get the drop on the capital? Well, turns out the Orks are hodge-podging a bunch of barges so they can head upriver. We're talking a rapid mobilization of around ten to fifteen thousand greenskins. If they disembark here, roughly four clicks north of the Tau line, there's a good chance they'll take the bluies completely by surprise. Alternatively, the Orks could ignore the Tau altogether and simply attack the capital city itself, which is defended by only a few companies of Tau soldiers, the governor's personal guard, and the traitor PDF regiments."

"So what do we do? Warn the Tau and make an aggressive push to break through the weaken Ork lines? If we catch the Orks in the river it'll be a shooting gallery," I postulated. Cain, however, shook his head immediately.

"I'm thinking we might be able to turn this situation to our advantage and win this war quickly," Cain said with a smirk. "There are three possibilities with the Orks – they attack the Tau, they attack the capital city, or they split and attack both. Whichever is the case, right now we have an ideal opportunity to confront the Governor about what his Tau friends have been up to."

"If he finds out the Tau had been playing him all along then he might just turn on the Tau," I said as I played through Cain's logic and the likely outcomes. "Who are almost entirely outside the city walls right now…" I had difficulty suppressing the sinister grin that rose up.

"If the Orks attack the Tau, our forces can move in and attack both at once," Garrick added with the degree of zeal one would expect from an Astartes. Despite the Black Watch's emphasis on the success of the mission, I imagined he still did not enjoy having to work alongside xenos and relished the opportunity to fulfill all his wishes at once. "However, if the Ork attack the city in force, the Tau will definitely move to assist. The Orks will definitely turn to attack the Tau and once again we'll have them pinned between our lines." Whichever route the Orks took, we'd have the greenskins assaulting the Tau lines in close-quarters. With the bulk of the Kroot forces located to the south of the Tau line, there was a good chance the Tau soldiers would be overwhelmed before the Kroot could respond. I doubt we would get so lucky but even if the Tau did mount a vigorous defense against the Orks, it would leave their backside exposed to us. The scout summed up the situation with an overly enthusiastic "One way or another, the Tau are going to take it up the rear". The stares from Kasteen and myself bore through the scout like lasabolt fire. He immediately responded with a meek, eyes down, schola-boy "Ahhh sorry ma'am".

The opportunity to strike all our enemies down at once and reclaim the capital city seemed too perfect. This moment could very well have been what Kael had been pulling us all towards with his subtle manipulations. The possibility of such made us all slightly wary of following through with the plan since it seemed unlikely that Kael had been doing all his spying just to benefit us but when dealing with Eldar one could not second-guess themselves on the notion of what may or may not have been anticipated. One can never know what the Eldar might have taken into account…all one can do is continue fighting as normal and pray that the Emperor delivers victory. "The Lord-General has already approved of the plan and he's ordered our armoured regiment and the Kastaforians to advance along the highway to engage the Tau and Orks when the time comes. The Catachan scouts are going to continue monitoring the Ork progress and will set up explosives along the river to slow them down."

"With that said, I need to get back to me boys and get the preparations under way," the scout replied. "Emperor be with you lot and I hope to see you on the other side." The scout was dismissed and that would be the last any of us would ever see of him. Though the scouts were successful in slowing the Ork advance and even managed to sink a few barges, when they attempted to pull back they got caught between the Orks and the Tau. Surrounded on all sides by xenos, they fought to the last man.

"And what about actually convincing the Governor to turn on the Tau?" I asked expecting Cain had already planned something out. "I doubt he'd believe us if we just voxed him up and asked him really nicely."

"I will have to go and speak with the Governor in person. I'd hate to leave the frontline but it might be our only chance," Cain said with slight reluctance. "It's a long-shot but hopefully my reputation will be enough to get an audience. Once he hears the vox recording it should be enough. Plus, if the Tau have only been using him to garner support then it's likely they'll get rid of him the moment our presence is gone and the Tau have complete control over the planet. I somehow doubt the Governor wants to hand the reins over to them."

Of course, I asked about the possibility of the possibility that the evidence doesn't convince the Governor to help us out. Garrick had an answer for that question. "The Governor foolishly believes that the Imperium had turned its back on him. In his mind, he believes that he is still faithful to the Emperor. Once he is given reason and opportunity, he will return to fight on the side of the righteous."

"I'm surprised you seem so calm about that," I remarked when I noted Garrick's level tone. Most, if not all, marines had a passionate hatred for all things traitorous. The fact that he never reconsidered storming the palace on his own showed a remarkable level of restraint on his part, at least for a space marine.

"The man is still responsible for the death of my squad and has the blood of a space marine on his hands," Garrick was quick to respond. "Make no mistake, when the time comes he will receive punishment at my hands. However, if him living for a few extra days can be used to serve the Imperium, then retribution can wait."

"So…uh, where exactly am I going to be in all of this?" I asked curiously. There had been no specific mention of me thus far and I knew there had to be a reason I was allowed to sit in on the briefing. Cain wouldn't have dragged me here if he didn't have something in store for me.

"Well you're going to…uh…" Kasteen began but floundered shortly after. She seemed at a bit of a loss for words and looked to Cain for guidance. "I hadn't actually considered anything for her. I'm assuming you had something in mind Cain?"

Cain nodded knowingly and replied, "Commissar Abel will be accompanying me." I doubt he was surprised when I immediately asked why he insisted on my presence. Two commissars were hardly needed for such a mission and if the battlefield was about to be blown wide open the regiment needed at least one commissar on hand (though with the 597th that was hardly the case). "As you've said, Kael has had numerous opportunities to kill you and chose to avoid doing so. For whatever reason, you have his favour. We may need that advantage if things start to go sideways."

"You're hoping I'll lure him out?"

Cain shook his head immediately. "No, that probably won't work with him. This xeno has likely been stalking and hunting for millennia – an attempt to lure him out would be as clear as day to him. Besides, given what little we know of him, he could be halfway out of the sector by now or already waiting for us in the capital city. Both extremes are plausible. No, if we do encounter him, your presence may be enough to put him off guard. Or as I said if things go sideways and you're involved he might just might step in to tip things in your favour." I didn't share in Cain's confidence but then again, he wouldn't have to bear the immediate and rather final consequences if his assumptions were wrong. His whole line of reasoning assumed Kael would still be operating on his inexplicable 'no killing Abel' policy. Regardless of the faulty logic underlying the plan, the objective of the plan warranted the risk. And I had convinced myself that the mission presented an opportunity for me to see Cain put his highly touted diplomatic skills into practice. An opportunity I could hopefully learn from. It was too bad that very little of Cain's brilliant scheme went as planned. But what schemes do?

* * *

As time was of the essence and the bulk of the regiment would be needed to press against the Orks and Tau when the plan unfolded, Cain and I could only muster our aides to accompany us – Watz, Heilmit, and Jurgen. Surprisingly, when we loaded onto the salamander scout, we were joined by Garrick. He insisted (not that we had any real say in the matter) on being a part of the mission in case things went wrong. Personally I thought an accompanying Astartes would make the Governor far less receptive. But aside from saying 'pretty please' we really had no way to stop Garrick from doing whatever he wanted.

No options for refusal meant that our party had swollen to six. We were riding on a vehicle that was ideally meant for four and one of us was large enough to count as two organized ourselves so that Garrick rode hanging onto the back of the vehicle while Heilmit sat on the front end next to the barrel of the autocannon; the rest of us rode in the main compartment while Jurgen drove. Given Jurgen's propensity for driving as though dodging artillery fire, the only reason somebody wasn't thrown from the vehicle was because we were packed in too tightly for it to be physically possible. Garrick could probably cling to the underbelly of a Thunderhawk as it made re-entry, so he wasn't in any jeopardy of a sudden departure and Heilmit had a gun barrel to hold on to. I figured I would find his fingerprints etched into the barrel when the trip ended. I managed to get a few new bruises despite my best efforts and would've had more were I not still wearing my carapace vest.

While the high road would have provided the most direct route, being seen by the Tau may have raised suspicions so Jurgen kept the side roads that cut through the jungle. Unfortunately, the poor state of upkeep made Jurgen usual driving seem like a leisurely ride through the park. What paved sections remained had been split and fissured by bulging roots and the unpaved sections had long ago been overtaken completely by the jungle. Before the highway, these side roads could have fit two chimeras side-to-side but the encroaching trees made it a tight squeeze for the salamander. However, while most drivers would do their best to avoid obstacles, Jurgen gave them about as much afterthought as he did to personal hygiene. When I wasn't bouncing around the cabin, I kept an ear out for useful information on the vox network. There would be an occasional report from the Catachan scouts but they kept them brief and infrequent; their latest report had them detonating charges in the river and harassing the orks with sniper fire. Back at camp, Broklaw was giving one of our chimera driver's an earful for getting the APC stuck between two trees. It was always fun listening to him yell at people.

"So let me get this straight, if Kael left this for us to find then it seems pretty obvious that he wants us to be fighting each other," Heilmit remarked after having spent the past several minutes listening to the vox recording. Being the least-informed (aside from Jurgen, who didn't seem to care), I figured he had a right to know why we were marching into the capital city seemingly away from the main battle. "Why exactly are we doing exactly what he wants us to do?"

"Because it is a common Eldar ploy," Garrick answered. "By aligning what he needs to what we desire, we are left with little alternative but to play along lest we sabotage our own efforts. If we do not end this campaign quickly, the Tau will be able to ship in reinforcements before we can; we will lose control of this planet and likely the sub-sector soon afterwards. If we cannot obtain a decisive victory, the Tau will continue pushing forward."

"In other words, we have to kick the bluies' out and hope that whatever the Eldar gets from this doesn't come and bite us in the arse later," I added.

"I still don't get what he could be getting from this."

That, of course, was the question that had been rattling around my mind since we found out about the Eldar. So if Kael got away before I could get an answer from him, I would likely go insane trying to figure it out on my own. "We can ask him when we catch him, Heilmit."

Several minutes later, we caught a major break. Broklaw raised us on the vox caster to let us know that the Orks had begun attacking the Tau's flank. The Tau, of course, were requesting immediate support from the Valhallans. "Colonel Kasteen had to explain to the Tau commander that our lines were currently being assaulted by Ork forces and we would be unable to lend assistance without endangering our defensive line. Apparently one of our scout teams 'accidentally' led an Ork raiding party back to sector Q-12."

"That was a bit sloppy, don't you think Major?" Cain quipped in response.

"I'd say more bad luck than anything," Broklaw said with a barely contained chuckle. "We'll have our hands full for a little while but I suggest you hurry up. The Tau won't be happy when they realize we're dragging our feet."

"We're about thirty minutes out from the Governor's Palace."

"Then you probably won't like the bad news," the Major said grimly. "The Ork forces split into two and the larger of them is heading towards the city. They'll make contact within the hour."

"Oh good," Watz piped up when he overheard the last part, his voice soaked with sarcasm. "Here I was thinking that this mission would be devoid of looming threats of imminent, brutal death. At least we know it won't be boring." Watz's lack of enthusiasm summed up the general mood in the salamander, save for Garrick who probably relished the opportunity. Cain, however, urged Jurgen to drive even faster, something I had not thought possible given how fast we were already going. The sudden boost of speed caught me off guard, flooring me and prompting an exclamation of unlady-like profanity. As we drew closer to the capital city, the road began to even out once more. Like Vertens, Aedans was surrounded by massive walls lined with watch towers and gun emplacements. It was hard to imagine an otherwise peaceful and tranquil paradise world such as this would need such heavy defenses but considering the wealth and high-profile nature of many of the planet's seasonal occupants, I imagined they had an influence in the decision-making process.

"Okay Jurgen, ease up and take her in nice and slow," Cain advised, not wanting to risk startling the city's defenders. Our driver complied, slowing the salamander down to a leisurely pace as we made our final approach. Though Cain kept his hands off the heavy bolter's handle, I knew he had his hand close and watching the walls carefully. Likewise I constantly scanned the walls for signs of activity, watching as the occasional autocannon and lascannon traced our movement as we drew closer.

The towering city gates were, of course, closed and there was nobody outside to greet us, which left us with the slight problem of getting somebody to open up. Cain had hoped that our mere presence would garner enough attention but that did not seem to be the case as we waited for several minutes with sign of life from the other side. "The bastards are completely snubbing us!" Heilmit exclaimed impatiently. His enthusiasm was appreciated, though standing on the hull of the salamander, jumping and waving his arms was doing little to get anyone's attention. "Hey! Have you guys heard the good news lately?" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"It's a twenty-foot high wall Spike, they can't hear you," Watz said as he motioned for his colleague to settle down.

"Heilmit, move," I instructed as I prepped the vehicle's main cannon. "This should get their attention," I said before firing a single round into the main gates. The shell impacted with a lack-lustre 'bam' that did little more than slightly blacken a foot of the giant aquila etched into the metalwork. It also prompted every heavy bolter emplacement in range to focus on us. They didn't fire, however, likely because they knew we might as well be hurling harsh language for all the damage we could do.

Thankfully, it had the desired effect as a person's head poked out from an overhanging bunker. "What the frak are you doing?" he shouted over a wide-frequency vox channel.

"Your door buzzer was broken so we had to improvise," Cain replied, remaining calm and polite despite the possibility of deathly precipitation. "I am Commissar Ciaphas Cain from the Valhallan 597th on a mission of the utmost importance. We request entry and an immediate audience with Governor-Militant Gavilant."

"Is that so?" the soldier replied but sounded skeptical of our intentions. "You really think we'll just let you drive in with that Astartes goon? Tell me what business you have with the Governor and I'll see if he wants to speak with you."

"Business with security clearance far higher than you're privy to but suffice to say it's a matter of honour." The guard disappeared into his bunker, leaving us waiting in silence as the troopers likely debated the issue with their superiors. Eventually, they decided that a half-dozen armed individuals would pose little threat to a city protected by hundreds of Cadian and PDF troopers. The gates whined and groaned as they began to part, revealing a large courtyard defended by a wide arc of emplaced guns and tanks. My heart rate climbed as Jurgen slowly drove us in, making the prospect of an instantaneous and explosive death appearing more and more imminent. When the gates closed behind us, we were now completely at their mercy and I prayed to the Emperor that we weren't blundering into a trap.

A lone stormtrooper bearing a non-com's markings approached the salamander and motioned for us to stop. "You will step out of the vehicle, surrender your weapons, and accompany me to the Governor's residence," the stormtrooper instructed. Cain was the first to step out of the salamander, followed shortly by the rest of us save for Jurgen who seemed quite reluctant to surrender the vehicle. As I expected, none of us made the slightest indication of relinquishing our weapons. None of us were dumb enough to hand over our weapons when that deep in enemy territory. And Garrick for certain would never relinquish his bolter to anyone unless it was one shot at a time. "Now remove your weapons and leave them on the salamander," the stormtrooper ordered.

Cain, unflinching, simply folded his arms across his chest and replied, "Our weapons stay where they are."

"I've got about a hundred guns here that disagree with you Commissar," the stormtrooper said, boastfully motioning to the line of guns and tanks behind him. He was clearly enjoying his opportunity to boss around a commissar.

Cain glanced past the stormtrooper at the enemy line and feigned an unimpressed expression as he shrugged his shoulders dismissively. "You might have more guns right now but in a few minutes they will be far too busy to be backing up your idle threats."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Right now, sergeant, as we speak a force of almost ten thousand Orks have used the low-lying river to bypass the Tau lines and are currently on their way to Aedans. A force of that size is likely being led by the warboss himself, which means there will be no retreating or falling back for them. When that happens, I have no desire being stuck in a middle of a war zone without a weapon. Now we can either stand here and argue until the Orks kick down the door or we can speak to the Governor and possibly save this city."

"Bullshit," the stormtrooper immediately replied, clearly not believing a word Cain had said. That skepticism, however, disappeared the moment the city-wide sirens began to wail. It appeared that we had slightly less time than we had hoped – the Orks were already here. Soldiers began tearing down their equipment and loading into nearby chimeras while the tanks roared to life and began filing down the street. The Orks would likely avoid attempting to breach the gate simply because it would be faster (and closer) to simply find a weak point in the wall and punch through there. "Okay Mr. Hero, we'll do it your way," the stormtrooper acquiesced and motioned for us all to get back into the salamander. "It'll be faster if we use your transport, now let's move it!"

Several thousand Orks provided enough motivation to hurry things along and in less than a minute we were racing down the city streets, getting tossed around the cabin as Jurgen took the corners at full speed. It wasn't long until the sound of gunfire and explosions began to ring in the distance, along with the heart-stopping roar as ten thousand Orks shouted 'waagh' in unison. It was one of the most terrifying sounds I had ever heard in my career, though with some xenos the utter silence could be just as terrifying.

The Governor's palace lacked the overly extravagant appearance that was commonplace for the high-end nobility of planetary governor's. Granted, the current governor was of a military background so it was understandable that he refrained from extravagance. The palace consisted of four separate buildings in a box-like arrangement, surrounded by a large, ornate fence, and several acres of meticulously well-kept gardens. The building at the forefront bore the closest resemblance to a typical governor's home, greeting our arrival with tall, ornately-carved columns flanking massive wood and brass doors; statues of the Emperor and Imperial saints were carved from the columns; and in the center of the courtyard leading up to the building was a large stone fountain, the centerpiece of which was a beautifully carved woman. It took me a few moments of gazing at the figure before I realized the craftsmanship was identical to Kael's. The other buildings had similar designs but felt far more muted as well as more recently built as they made more use of standard rockrete and steel as opposed to the locally-supplied look of the main building. Just like with the outer walls, there were numerous gun emplacements protecting the governor's palace, as well as four Hydra batteries air-defense.

The guards at the front gate were quick to wave us through but rather than proceeding inside we were greeted at the front steps by the governor himself. He was a fair bit taller than the hololithes made him out and he was clothed in his military attires rather than the hoity garbs normally worn by governors. Gavilant was clearly not taking any risks with us as he wore a heavy carapace vest and had his power gloves on along with a full escort of Cadian stormtroopers. Understandably, the guards were more wary of Garrick than the rest of us, most of them keeping their weapons trained on the space marine even though he kept his distance. What concerned me, however, was that a significant number of Tau soldiers were also part of the palace's defense team, several of whom were standing close by.

"So I finally get to meet the great Hero of the Imperium, Ciaphas Cain," the governor said as he approached Cain, an audible clicking noise accompanying his words due to the augmetic half of his jaw. He stopped just short of being within swinging distance just in case if Cain tried to draw his sword. "I would have preferred it to have been under better circumstances but people keep telling me you're here on some sort of urgent business."

Cain had noticed the nearby Tau soldiers as well as I noticed him casting the occasional glance to them as he spoke with the governor. "Urgent enough to force me away from the front lines I'm afraid," Cain said. "I'm sure you are already aware of the impending Ork assault and that the Tau will be unable to send reinforcements due to a similar problem on their lines."

"Indeed I have been informed," Gavilant said as he eyed Cain suspiciously. The Governor-Militant was not the self-centered, short-sighted variety of planetary leader that I found were commonplace. He was not just any general either, he was a Cadian general, which meant he had been practicing the art of war longer than Cain and I combined. He was smart, cautious, and understandably suspicious of us. "However, I doubt you came all this way just to tell me something I already knew and could've been told over a vox caster…which begs the question why nobody did and why you of all people."

This was the moment where Cain's reputation came into play. Were it any other person, Gavilant would likely have dismissed him without a second thought. A reputation could sometimes be a more potent weapon than any gun or sword and it could defeat an enemy before the battle even began. "Because there are things far more troubling to this situation than a horde of Orks trying to kick down you're front door. What I need to discuss with you is just as pressing and if I had sent a runner or told you over the vox caster you probably would believe we were trying to deceive you. As such, I have come here so that I can stand behind my words and assure you that they are true."

"And those words are?" Gavilant still looked skeptical but was starting to change his mind.

"Well..." Cain paused, casting a glance to the scores of guards around us, "this information is the sort that should be discussed away from the troopers. Could we relocate to someplace more private for a few minutes?"

Gavilant took a few moments to analyze Cain, scrutinizing every inch of his posture and expression. The Governor-Militant had likely dealt with scores of liars and cheats so it took every ounce of Cain's charisma to convince the man. "Very well…but your retinue stays out here," he instructed. It was a perfectly reasonable compromise so Cain accepted with the addendum that I be present for the conversation as well. Gavilant took a moment to assess my potential risk and was quick to agree (a bit too quick if you ask me). Garrick and the others stayed with the salamander while Cain and I followed Gavilant and a personal guard back into the palace. Given the wartime situation, most of the interior of the palace had been re-organized to create a more defensive stronghold – windows were reinforced with sandbags and gun emplacements; loose and valuable artifacts and décor had been stowed away; servitor skulls made regular sweeps through the halls ahead of foot patrols; and a heavy bolter guarded the top of the main stairwell that overlooked the atrium. Most governors would scoff at the idea of their palace being at risk and refuse any sort of fortification that would tarnish its lavish appearance. Gavilant was not only prepared to turn his home into an impromptu fortress but I wouldn't have been surprised if he had a scorched earth plan prepared as well. After ascending the stairs, Gavilant led us through another pair of massive wooden doors into what appeared to be his main office. I had lived in quarters smaller than his office, which had walls lined with dark-stained wood paneling and a fine, red carpet that made me feel somewhat guilty for trampling my soiled boots all over it. A large painting depicting the Emperor during the Great Crusade hung over the desk – a refreshing change of pace from the usual self-portrait most Governors had.

He dismissed the handful of guards that were already in the room, save for the single personal guard that had been accompanying him. "Is this private enough for you Commissar Cain?" Gavilant asked once the last guard left and shut the doors behind him.

"Quite," Cain said with a nod, "though to be honest I merely wanted you away from the Tau. You have the unwavering loyalty of your troops so I was not concerned about their possible reaction to what I have to say."

"That's enough with the posturing. Could you please get to the point?" Clearly Gavilant's interest was piqued if he was becoming so impatient.

"As you wish," Cain agreed. "I've come to inform you that you're Tau allies have not been entirely honest with you and are not all that they appear to be."

"Oh for the Emperor's sake," the governor sighed. "Listen, I've been over this enough times with my men…I didn't ally with the Tau because I like them or even because I wanted to. They're damn xenos, of course they're not entirely honest with me and of course they're not all they appear to be. But what choice did I have? You people stopped sending our supply shipments, ignored all my calls for assistance, and left this planet isolated and ripe for them to invade. I had a choice between letting this world get razed, my people starving, or allying with the Tau. I swore an oath in the Emperor's name to serve and protect these citizens and I wasn't about to let those damned bureaucratic chowderheads at the Administratum and Segmentum Command decide this planet wasn't worth keeping!"

"We understand that Governor and we recognize the impossibly difficult situation that you had been put into. Few of us blame you for that decision and even admire your selfless dedication to the citizens of this planet…but the situation you found yourself in wasn't one created by indifferent bureaucrats – your supply shipments were being targeted and destroyed by Tau forces. They knew about the Astartes strike force in advance and were fully prepared to let them kill you until they were convinced otherwise. The truth is Governor, is that this war has been propagated and directed by the meticulous and deceptive planning of an Eldar sleeper agent. Using his warpcraft, he has been feeding the Tau information about you, this planet, and our forces; been sabotaging our efforts; and has been provoking the Orks into battle. Everything that has been happening here has been under his manipulation, driving us all to this one point where all three armies are swallowed up by a giant war that will likely leave this planet defenseless for when the rest of the Eldar arrive…" Cain motioned for the vox recorder I had been carrying with me, which took me a few moments to find between all the other loose items I had stowed away in my coat, including that krak grenade I still had never bothered to discard. I finally found the device and handed it over to Cain. "I wouldn't expect you to simply take my word as is, so I suggest you have a listen to this. We thought our saboteur problems were linked to people loyal to you but the evidence we recovered is far more troubling."

I would not have expected anybody to believe what Cain had said but as Gavilant listened to the vox recording, listened to Kael give explicit details on what supply vessels to target, when to strike, how to win the Governor's trust, and how to eventually get rid of him, his visage went from quiet suspicion to boiling rage. That rage lasted only a moment, however, subdued quickly by a steely demeanour that came from decades of battlefield experience. Then, for some strange reason the Governor smirked, shaking his head slowly as he leaned against his desk. "Why am I not surprised it's him," he muttered.

"I beg your pardon?" Cain asked as we were both puzzled by the remark.

"The other voice…the Eldar," Gavilant explained. "I'll never forget that voice. He was the last Eldar I saw after we had driven them off this world. He came to me in the middle of the night, told me that they would return one day and take it back. Bastard even said he would kill me himself."

What Gavilant said left me feeling on edge. Kael had a long memory and he wasn't the type to let things go. I had a gut feeling that Kael would not have forgotten such a vow. But it wasn't just about fulfilling a simple vow as Kael was a skilled enough sniper to have accomplished that task ages ago had he desired the Governor's death. If I were Kael, I would choose a moment where the Governor's death would have the most impact and likely inconvenience us the most. I wish I had known just how right I was with that assessment. While I stood pondering over Kael's next move, Cain continued talking with Gavilant, trying to convince him that he could earn some measure of the Emperor's forgiveness if he assisted us against the Tau and returned the planet to the Imperium. Gavilant was an experienced military leader: decisive, bold, never rash or impulsive. He was playing all the past events over in his head, probably trying to figure out what he had missed, how he had not seen the deceit and the subtle manipulation of the Eldar and the Tau. He was deep in analysis and thought. He might not have been fully convinced we weren't the ones doing the manipulating. sThe sound of gunfire had been steadily increasing in the background and neither Cain nor I enjoyed how long Gavilant was taking. All along the city walls the Ork mobs were crashing against the fortifications like a green tidal wave. It was only a matter of time before the defenses were breached when suddenly an ear-splitting explosion rang out, shaking the very planet itself; we knew that the Orks had broken through.

The Governor, now more concerned with his city being overrun than supposed Eldar spies, hurried over to the office's vox caster. He probably wanted a status report if there was still anybody alive at the walls to give it. In the meantime Cain and I regrouped to strategize. "This isn't working, we're running out of time," I whispered.

"If we can't convince him to help us, we'll just have to tell the armoured column to begin attacking the Orks. Saving his arse might change his mind," Cain replied. I nodded as I cast a sideways glance back to the Governor – he seemed to be having some trouble with the vox caster. At first I thought he had simply relied on a vox operator for too long and forgot how to work it himself but after a second, longer look I noticed that he was making all the right motions but the machine didn't appear to be working.

"I swear if Caydan took the cells out to run his portable holovid again…" Gavilant muttered bitterly.

However, a more troubling thought must have passed through both Cain and I as we immediately went to our comm-beads. "I'm not getting a signal," I replied. Cain reported the same problem and unsettling realization dawned upon us, prompting both of us to draw our weapons. "He's here."

"And the girl finally clues in," Kael's unmistakable voice rang out. The Governor's chair suddenly turned about, revealing the Eldar miscreant sitting comfortably upon it with a frustratingly cheerful smirk plastered across his face. Gavilant's personal guard was quick to level his lasgun at the intruder but Kael was quicker in throwing a knife right into the guard's throat. Watching the guard choke to death on his own blood made me reluctant to try and attempt the same maneuver so my weapon stayed at my side for the time being. "I see the years have not been very pleasant to you General Gavilant. Are you surprised to see me? You shouldn't be. The good commissars here did tell you about me after all and they did show you my wonderful recording."

"I figured you would have been smart enough to stay away after how badly I beat you xenos the last time," Gavilant sneered in response.

"Technically speaking, Governor, I never actually left. Originally I was merely going to wait until time took care of you and capitalize on the ensuing power struggle but the encroaching Tau have forced me to take action. I must applaud you all for playing your parts so very well for me and now Governor if you would just do me the further kindness of dying…." Kael rose from his seat, drawing his own blade from the depths of his cloak. The long, leaf-shaped blade shimmered with Eldritch energy, humming faintly as he twirled the blade several times in preparation. The Governor immediately shouted for the guards who should be just outside the door but when the only response was indecipherable shouting and heavy pounding on the door, we realized that Kael had already sealed the doors. There was no alternative but to fight now.

"Abel, get the doors!" Cain shouted as he sprang into action. He fired several shots but did little more than ruin the wallpaper as Kael slipped past the barrage while closing in on Cain. Chainsword and witchblade clashed in vibrant shower of sparks accompanied by the screech of metal on metal that made the hairs on my neck stand on end. I did as Cain instructed and raced for the door but just as I was within arm's reach of it, it felt as though a giant, invisible hand suddenly grabbed hold of me and flung me from my goal. Even in the middle of fighting Cain, Kael was able to wield his psychic might effortlessly. Stubbornly, I tried for the door again only to be met with similar results; the only difference was that I was flung into a bookcase the second time, likely to deter me from making a third attempt. There was little I could do other than watch as Cain and Kael clashed blades. A battle that could very well decide the fate of the planet was being waged ten feet from me and there wasn't a thing I could do to help. Suffice to say, I hated being stuck as a spectator.

Cain was arguably the best swordsmen in the entire sector and, outside of the Adeptus Astartes, one of the best in the entire segmentum as well. But Kael handled his blade with the expert precision that came from countless years of experience, likely more than the lifetimes of every other person in the building combined. Cain had physical strength on his side but compared to an Eldar his movements seemed sluggish and Kael twisted and bent around his attacks effortlessly. Still, Cain's own instinct and experience were evident as he anticipated attack after attack, parrying and block the Eldar's strikes. Neither side was gaining ground on the other nor if one held an advantage did it last for very long. When Cain was to knock the Eldar's blade aside to force a hole in his defense, Kael retaliated by sending Cain staggering back with a blast of psychic force. In turn, when Kael slipped past Cain's attacks and attempted to step inside his reach, Cain simply used his physical stature and body-checked the Eldar back a few feet. What worried me, however, was that Kael seemed to be holding back on using his psychic powers. I did not know if he was merely keeping them in reserve or had something more in mind but the possibilities left me feeling anxious.

Unfortunately, while I lamented having to take a step back, I also knew that getting involved would only worsen the situation and I would only get in Cain's way. Despite my feelings, I knew that standing back was for the best. Gavilant, on the other hand, was a general who led from the front and he had no interest in letting another man fighting his battles for him. On any other day I would applaud such willingness but in this situation he was only going to make things more difficult. He may have bested one of the Emperor's finest but he had the element of surprise and a significantly larger and slower target compared to Kael. Power fists were a great weapon if you wanted to make sure your target was dead after the first hit regardless of how well-armoured he was but even master-crafted power fists were slow, cumbersome, and lacked range. I had no doubt that Gavilant was an expert combatant but Kael didn't even seem strained to dodge the oncoming blows from the Governor, even occasionally parrying Cain's strikes towards Gavilant to keep both attackers off-balance. Two-on-one fights were usually one-sided but Kael continually moved to keep Cain and Gavilant in front, or worse, in each other's way.

"Time has slowed you down Governor," Kael said as he parried Cain's strike and shifted left to keep Gavilant on the other side of the commissar. He shoved Cain towards the Gavilant, keeping both at bay but prompting the Governor to push past Cain and rush for an attack. "I should have killed you decades ago," he continued, knocking back repeated attacks from the Governor before knocking him back with a psychic blow. On the bright side, this gave Cain an opportunity to attack without interference and he pressed hard with a series of alternating high and low strikes. "You have been living on borrowed time Governor and it is time to collect!" Kael had been passive in defending against Cain's latest assault but then suddenly burst into a counter-attack, striking high and forcing Cain's sword down and to the side. Kael executed another psychic pull but this time grabbing the Governor and hurtling the man right for Cain's chainsword.

For Cain and me, it was like watching a train crash in slow motion.

There was a blood-choked, agonizing cry as the chainsword chewed through armour and flesh with ease, pulping innards, and spraying blood across the floor. Cain thumbed the chainsword off but it was already too late for the Governor, his face frozen in pain and speckled with his own ground flesh.

At that moment, and far too timely for it to have been a coincidence, the chamber doors finally gave way and several guards raced into the room. By that time, Kael had already pulled his vanishing act so all the soldiers saw was Cain standing there with the Governor impaled on his chainsword.


	20. TWENTY

**TWENTY**

In the war between truth and lies, truth is the ninety-eight pound scrawny, pasty-white juvie while lies are drunken, belligerent scrumball jocks who bully and bitch-slap truth at every opportunity. In a perfect world, truth would be a radiant light that destroyed the shadows of lies but in reality, truth can barely stand on its own. Because people are simply more willing to accept a lie when it is wrapped in a neat, simple and convenient package for their acceptance. Convincing people to accept the truth is an uphill battle, even more so when the truth is complicated enough to have the appearance of an old mystery holo-drama. Scrawny, complicated truth or man-mountain, simple lie. Which should the guards, standing before us with their weapons drawn, believe if we tried to explain to them that their Governor's death was the result of the deception orchestrated by an Eldar psyker? Why should they when it was much more convenient to believe that Cain had merely talked his way through layers of security in order to isolate and assassinate their beloved Governor? Commissar Cain was already a legend for having single-handedly turned the tide in the liberation of Perlia so Magnus Viridis seemed to be par for the course. Were I not already privy to the truth of the matter, I doubt I would have believed it either.

Regardless, the truth of the situation for Cain and I was we now had a half-dozen armed and angry guards shouting into their comm-beads alerting the entire Aedans garrison of what Cain had supposedly just done. Understandably, we were not given a chance to explain ourselves as the guards immediately readied to fire. I bolted for the nearest piece of solid cover, the Governor's desk, and vaulted to the opposite side. Cain was not as fortunate as he still had a dead Governor stuck on his chainsword. However, he kept his head down and the body supported and used it for a shield, banking on the guards having enough respect for their deceased commander to not desecrate his remains with lasbolts. The guards hesitated but Cain and I knew it wouldn't be long before one worked up the courage to take action. He carefully inched towards them until he was close enough to act.

"Catch!" Cain shouted as he activated his chainsword once again and kicked the Governor's body free. Two of the guards were knocked back as the body fell onto them, giving Cain an opening to charge in close and dispatching two other soldiers with rapid strikes. Distracted by the chainsword-wielding legend in their midst, I was free to pop up and drop a few more with carefully aimed shots. Cain was as ruthless as he was efficient, thrusting his blade into a third guard before he got a chance to get back to his feet after being knocked over by the governor. The last guard would probably have gotten a shot off on Cain had I not stopped him with a shot of my own, generating a hole from one side of his helmet to the other.

"Now what the frak do we do?" I asked since our brilliant plan to convince the Governor's forces to our cause had gone in the completely opposite direction.

"I suggest we worry about getting out of the city first," Cain said, readying his laspistol in the event more guards arrived. However, when we heard gunfire from outside, a realization crossed both our minds. "The others!" we shouted in unison and raced out the office. After word of the Governor's death spread throughout the building, the palace guards quickly turned their weapons on our comrades. Judging by the volume of gunfire, however, our friends had not been caught off-guard. When we emerged into the main atrium, a number of guards were firing down at the main entrance, including the heavy bolt set up at the top of the stairs. They probably thought the six guards who entered the Governor's office would have been enough to finish us off, so Cain and I caught the soldiers completely by surprise. We were able to shoot down several before they realized they were being attacked from the rear and I made sure my first shot went into the back of the gunner on heavy bolter.

"Watz, Cain and I are at the top of the stairs. Are you guys okay down there?" I shouted over the comm-bead while I took cover from incoming laser fire.

"Thank the Emperor you're both okay. We got suspicious when we lost vox contact with you," Watz replied. "Everybody down here is okay and I'm guessing you have a good explanation for what the frak is going on."

"Abridged version: Kael killed the Governor but the guards think we did it. We'll explain the rest when the gunfire dies down." With Cain and I harassing from the rear and Watz and the others pressing from below, the guards caught between us did not last long. With the heavy bolter down, Garrick began charging up the stairs. A few were brave (or stupid) enough to try and hold their ground against the Astartes but the vast majority realized their weapons were as useful as fresh fruit against him and they promptly tried to run for cover. Whether they stayed or ran, Garrick's boltgun made short work of the palace guards. When the last of them were finished off, we quickly regrouped on the stairs and Cain gave a quick explanation of what had transpired in the Governor's office.

"That xeno bastard," Heilmit remarked angrily. "I bet he was planning that from the start."

"It's very likely," Garrick acknowledged. "But we have a greater problem on our hands; the greenskins have been funneling their offensive towards this location and the palace guards started coming under fire not too long ago. If we don't hurry, the Orks will overrun the front gates and we won't be able to get back to the transport."

It was far too well-timed and inconvenient for the Ork offensive to have been a mere coincidence. There was little doubt in any of our teeny-tiny military minds that Kael had a hand in directing the attack to the palace. "So much for your theory of Kael going easy on me," I remarked.

Much to my surprise Cain disagreed "Not necessarily. We probably couldn't fight our way through all the PDF and Cadians but with the Orks distracting them, we might be able to slip out through the chaos. We'll need to get back to the salamander immediately." There was no argument to that idea, not even from Garrick. I doubt even an Astartes was interested in being caught between too armies.

The situation out front, however, was far worse than Garrick had made it seem. What had been light contact only a few minutes ago had already rapidly degraded into an all-out assault. Hundreds upon hundreds of Orks were throwing themselves at the front gate. The palace guards were bravely fight back and cutting them down in droves but even after a quick glance I could see that the Orks were gaining ground and there simply wasn't enough firepower to hold them off. To make matters worse, the Orks weren't packing lightly either as evident by one of the guard towers exploding in a shower of steel and rockrete, and several rockets that screamed over our heads before impacting the palace façade. Most of us became wary of falling debris, except for Garrick who barely flinched when a piece of rockrete the size of my head bounced off his shoulder.

The space marine looked on at the fighting, traitors and xenos slaughtering each other in droves. Were we not about to get caught in the middle it would have made for an entertaining afternoon. "They fight on while we flee…hardly seems right," Garrick muttered.

"You're welcome to stay if you'd like," I said, making my sarcasm quite evident just in case he took it as an open invitation.

He shook his head, however, which would have surprised me a few days ago but made more sense now that I had a better understanding of the space marine. "A pointless death is a dishonourable one," he remarked. Just as we began to descend the front steps, an earth-shaking explosion ripped apart the main gates, throwing xenos, humans, and debris into the air as though they were confetti. A disheartening, elated roar echoed from the Orks as they began pouring through the fresh opening, hacking apart anybody caught in the rising green tide. Our party came to a halt when it became obvious the Orks would overrun the salamander's position before we reached it, prompting us to immediately turn about and race back up the stairs with an unnecessary shout of 'back inside' from Cain. Watz and Jurgen shut the doors behind us while Heilmit worked on a nearby control lectern to activate the lock-down protocols (because every self-respecting Governor has heavy-duty locks on their front door in the event of a civilian uprising).

"If anybody has a brilliant plan I'm open to suggestion," Cain said as we hurried back into the front atrium.

"Don't these palaces always have secret escape routes?" Jurgen suggested.

"True…but they're called _secret_ escape routes for a reason," Cain replied, despite hating the answer. He knew we could spend the entire day searching the walls without success and anybody who knew the location would have no reason to share that information with us. I suggested checking the Governor's office in the hopes there was a building layout or something that could help us. The office had a number of computer lecterns and dataslates lying around so we quickly began to scour for any sort of useful information.

"Aha!" Heilmit cheered joyfully, prompting Cain to rush to his side. "This lectern has a number of building directories. I should be able to find something useful on this."

"How long will that take?" Cain asked.

A heavy explosion echoing from the front provided the answer. Time was not something we had in abundance. "Probably longer than we have," Heilmit said reluctantly.

"Keep working, we'll buy you time," Cain said as he motioned for us to head back out into the atrium. The corridor leading into the atrium would funnel the Ork numbers, reducing the effectiveness of their numbers. Emperor willing, we might even be able to clog the hall with dead bodies. Garrick and Jurgen took up firing positions while Watz and I manned the heavy bolter. We could hear the thunderous pounding of footsteps growing louder, accompanied by Orkish cheers and whoops.

"Commissar Abel," Watz spoke up after we finished loading a fresh box of ammunition into the heavy bolter, "for what's it worth…serving with you these past few weeks has been better than all my other years of service put together." It was an unexpected comment to hear, not so much the fatalistic attitude (because you'll always get that from a Kriegan) but the sincerity of how he said it. Looking back, I had appreciated Watz's service but I had been taking it for granted as a perk of the profession. I knew he enjoyed the benefits of being a commissar's aide and how it kept him away from the front lines but until that point I hadn't considered how much it really meant to him. Like me, Watz had spent most of his career serving under leaders he cared little about so having somebody to follow that had a vested interest in them brought a great, reassuring sense of purpose much like the one I got from working under Cain's tutelage. Words failed me but thankfully there was about a hundred Orks to provide ample distraction.

"Show them the true face of fear!" Garrick shouted as we all opened fire. High-caliber bolter rounds began tearing apart the Orks as they raced into the atrium. Within a few seconds the bodies were already starting to pile up and bog down the Ork advance. Though firing at the limit of its range, Jurgen's melta gun was still able to cut out gouges in the Ork mob. The foul-smelling, bloody paste left behind by the Orks hit by the intense heat blast coated the floor and creating a slippery obstacle for the rushing Orks. Eventually, though, they started to use what little brain power they had and the influx of Orks began to lessen and some were using corpse mounds as cover while they fired volleys back at us.

Tunnel-vision began to set in and I became fixated on whatever target happened to be caught in my crosshairs. With less Orks coming in my suppression fire became more precise and controlled bursts gouged out chunks of the enemy line. But just as I was starting to make a dent in their lines the heavy bolter fell silent. "Empty!" I alerted the others as Watz and I began loading a new belt into the gun. The Orks were quick to respond to the sudden lull, surging forth into the atrium and up the stairs. Just as the Orks neared the top, Jurgen unleashed a deadly sweep of his melta gun, liquefying the first couple rows of Orks, which bought me the precious seconds I needed to finish loading the heavy bolter. The gun roared to life once more, blasting the closest Ork into a bloody and chunky mess and then plowing a path of carnage down the steps.

"Commissar Cain!" Heilmit shouted as he emerged from the Governor's office, waving a dataslate about enthusiastically. "I got us a way out of here! The Governor has a personal aquila lander located on the rooftop of the eastern building."

"Please tell me somebody here can fly one of those things," Cain replied.

"Don't ask me to do any barrel rolls Commissar," Watz spoke up, "but if you can get me to that bird I should be able to get us out of the city." Since any escape route was better than our current situation, I wasn't about to question where a guardsman picked up such a skill. Cain likely thought the same as he nodded back to Watz.

"Lead the way trooper," Cain instructed as he signaled for us to pull out. Heilmit took point and began racing for a door a short distance away along the balcony. Once again, when the heavy bolter fell silent the Orks began another pushing, forcing us to shoot and run. We threw what frag grenades we had left to slow them down but an Ork charge was nigh-impossible to stop without destroying it outright. Garrick, in a surprising move, went for the heavy bolter when Watz and I abandoned it; he grabbed the heavy weapon, tore it from its tripod, and took it with us. Some Orks carrying rocket launchers began to show up as several salvos were launched up as we raced across the balcony. The rockets were even more inaccurate than the gunfire, one hitting the ceiling several feet away from us, one hitting a section of wall we had already passed, and even one hitting another Ork and splattering him across the wall. Unfortunately, one hit the underside of the balcony just as I was running across it, blowing a hole through the wooden flooring, dropping me several feet to the atrium floor.

"Commissar!" Watz shouted as he stopped to peer through the hole. I was lucky enough that a well-placed couch broke my fall but now I was stuck on the ground floor with a mob of Orks between me and the others.

"Get moving! I'll find another way!" I shouted since there was neither the time nor the means for me to join up with the others at the moment. They had to keep ahead of the Orks if they wanted to make it to the lander. A few of the Ork stragglers took notice of me but the bulk remained in pursuit of the others as apparently a space marine's helmet was a highly coveted trophy for an Ork (and Garrick was happy to entertain any who wished to take it from him). One of the Orks that saw me, however, was frakking huge and carried a hammer that was bigger than me. Some hardline commissars would consider my actions cowardice but my only chance for survival was to keep moving, so I bolted for the nearest door and prayed that it didn't lead to a dead-end.

I found myself in a long hallway and judging by the lack of décor it was more likely used by the service staff than guests. A few carts lined the halls and a few of the doors were already open to reveal panty storerooms – I had to be somewhere near the kitchen, which meant a delivery door to the outside. While there were likely more Orks and traitors outside it was the only chance I had to get my bearings and figure out a way to regroup with the others. Inside I would only succeed in running aimlessly through the halls until I ran headlong into an Ork. The kitchen was easy enough to find; I merely had to search for a large set of swinging or automatic doors so food carts could pass through without issue. The kitchen was as large as one would expect for a mansion: numerous ovens of various makes and purposes lined the walls, food and grains were stacked on shelves, and meals in various stages of preparation sat unfinished on counters. If I hadn't been running for my life I would have sampled some of the items as even the unfinished meals looked better than the usual meals prepared by the mess staff (not that it's the cook's fault, he does the best he can with the crap the Munitorium provides). As it was, I only had time to realize that I could use the kitchen to my advantage. The number of ovens available meant the kitchen had a large supply of oil or fuel, in this case a gaseous form of promethium. I opened all the gas valves I could find, pumping litres of volatile vapours into the kitchen. I still needed an ignition source that I wouldn't require me to be standing within range of the resultant explosion. One of the radiovens was able to fulfill that role suitably. I tossed a spare laspistol power cell into the oven, cranked the power to maximum, and set the timer for a few minutes.

Every soldier knows that a power cell can be charged on the field by hooking it into any electrical source or exposing the cell to an open fire. A soldier also knows that you _never_ put a power cell into a radioven despite the fact that it simulates the effects of a fire using low-powered radiation. Something about the radiation reacted with the inner workings of a power cell causing a relatively small but ultimately destructive explosion of both the power cell and the radioven. About thirty seconds after starting the oven, the power cell detonated with the force of a small hand grenade, sparking off the gas-filled room and promptly turning the kitchen into a raging inferno.

Of course, by the time it went off I had already fled through the kitchen's delivery bay door and was now outside in the palace's inner courtyard. I heard the blast, though, and even felt a hot blast of air from the kitchen's direction. It wouldn't hold the Orks off forever but it bought me some time. The inner courtyard was a network of hedges, flowers, towering trees, and overly-elaborate gazebos, which would have been very appealing had the world not been coming down around my ears. Each of the four structures had access to the inner courtyard so all I needed to do was head for the eastern building, which was easy to identify as I could see the edges of a landing pad from where I stood.

"Cain," I voxed as I figured it would be prudent to let the others know I was still alive. "I've reached the inner courtyard. I think I can link up with you guys at the landing pad. How's the situation on your end?"

"Green and ugly," he replied accompanied by the whine of a chainsaw on maximum-shred. "We're making progress but we're sandwiched between Orks and traitors."

"Well…Emperor watch over you all and I'll see you at the landing pad." I had to keep moving. I could already hear Orks trying to bash their way through some of the other doors leading to the courtyard. Little more than a heavy duty lock was keeping the area from being flooded with greenskins. As I started across the courtyard, I heard the unsettling roar of high-powered jet propulsion systems. Before I even cranked my head skywards to see what it was, a Tau battlesuit landed in the courtyard ahead of me, shattering the rockrete walkway beneath its feet and kicking up a cloud of dust. It was alone and it bore the white markings denoting it as none other than that of Shas'O Lar'shi, who I bet had just heard of what transpired at the palace.

"Frak," I muttered softly as I skidded to a halt only a few meters from the machination.

"You…" his voice boomed when the battlesuit looked down upon me. "I was told you were dead."

"I get that a lot," I replied.

"Where is Cain?" he demanded angrily. "I thought he was a man of honour but instead he proposes a truce only to stab us in the back!"

"Oh don't play the innocent card," I scoffed. "We know you were dealing with the Eldar - destroying supply ships with one hand and offering the other to the governor as a supposed friend. Well guess what, your plan has fallen apart. Your forces are cut-off and surrounded with Orks on one side and us on the other. Your allies are hopelessly overwhelmed and we're about to drive an armoured column straight through this city. And the best part of all is that you were set up by none other than your little Eldar friend."

At first he said nothing, the battlesuit maintaining its lifeless gaze. I like to think that the Tau commander was trembling with rage at that moment, realizing that he had been played for a fool by the one he thought had been helping him all along. Perhaps the campaign taught the Tau the folly of listening to an Eldar. "I will deal with that Eldar after I have dealt with your commissar," he finally replied and then, most surprisingly, turned and started walking away. The blue-skinned bastard was snubbing me! Granted, I wasn't in a hurry to die for the Emperor but there were few things as insulting as standing the crosshairs of an enemy and having them decide that you weren't even worth the ammunition.

My temper flared, overriding any sense of self-preservation. "Don't you ignore me, you blue-skinned son of a bitch!" I yelled as I fired my laspistol several times into the battlesuit's exposed backside. Unfortunately, even a hotshot laspistol didn't have enough power to punch through a battlesuit's armour. All I succeeded in accomplishing was pissing him off as the O'Lar'shi swiftly turned about and firing a blast from its plasma gun. It might have been a warning shot as it flew wide but was close enough for me to feel the heat from the explosion. However, at the time my mind didn't register the possibility of a warning shot, instead interpreting it as a full-blown attack. Fueled by a mix of panic and anger, I dashed for cover while snapping off several more shots with the hope of hitting a joint or a structural weak point of some sort. I made some impressive-looking pot-marks on the armour but little else. Several more shots whisked past me before I finally found shelter amongst some hedges – it wouldn't protect me but it kept me hidden to an extent (at least I think it did, I had no idea what sort of sensors a battlesuit had equipped).

I cursed myself for my stupidity, picking a fight with a battlesuit when I lacked any sort of anti-tank weaponry. The only reason I had survived so far was that the battlesuit seemed to be armed to combat large, slow-moving heavy infantry rather than a quick and tiny commissar running for her life. However, after lying on the grass for a few moments, what I thought was a rock under my side turned out to be the krak grenade I had tucked away so long ago and had never bothered to get rid of. It was as long of a shot as one could get without being considered a blind throw but as energy bolts roared over my head, I realized it could very well be my only shot. If I simply tossed the grenade, the battlesuit would be able to get out of the way so my best chance was to distract Tau commander. Of course, I couldn't simply stand up and shout 'hey look over there.' I didn't have time to strategize as thudding footsteps alerted me to his approach so I sprinted off again and prayed for the Emperor's protection. A plasma bolt vaporized the spot where I had just been taking cover and I veered to the left in time to avoid a second, quickly released energy bolt. It whisked past me, fraying my nerves with the heat, and blasted a hole through a groundskeeper's shed. There must have been some fuel stored within it because something inside the shed detonated, sending pieces of tin and wood flying across the gardens. The blast threw me off balance and a piece of wood struck me in the knee, sending me tumbling to the ground in a heap. When I regained my senses, the first thing I noticed was my krak grenade lying on the grass several feet ahead of me…and the second thing was the battlesuit towering overtop of me.

"Insolent gue'la, war and anarchy are all your kind is good for," O'Lar'shi taunted, secure in his supremacy. "The Tau Empire offers you peace, harmony, and prosperity and you only spit it back in our face! The Age of Man is over…and the Age of the Greater Good will soon be at hand. Your kind can either join us in glory or be trampled underfoot."

Why some people insist on lecturing the enemies on their folly before killing them has always been a mystery to me. It always struck me as unnecessarily dramatic – the sort of antics done in holo-vids and old novels where long pauses to deliver speeches have no consequences. In reality, while the Tau commander prattled on I took the opportunity to look for an opening of some sort. There was no chance I could make a run for it not to mention my pride wouldn't allow it so my options were limited. He would notice if I tried to crawl over to the krak grenade and even at point-blank range it was unlikely my laspistol would be able to make anything more than a dent in the frontal armour. However, my eye caught a glimpse of an opportunity: the Orks. At the moment, the Orks were still trying to bash their way through various doors and gates leading into the inner courtyard and while most of the doors would hold for a while, a few were close to their breaking points. It was a long-distance shot for a laspistol but, and as crazy as it sounds, I could almost tell just by looking exactly where my shots would land. I snapped off three shots, all of which found their mark on the hinges and bolts of a heavy metal door. When the Orks on the other side rammed it once again, the door was knocked clean from its frame and about twenty-or-so greenskins rushed into the inner courtyard.

"What was that supposed to accomplish?" O'Lar'shi remarked. He must have thought I had tried to distract him since the battlesuit kept its focus on me, which was fine by me since it meant he wasn't paying attention to the mob of Orks that were racing over to meet him. Only when the bullets started pinging off his armour did he realize there was company and by that point it was too late for him to dodge the incoming ork rocket. It impacted against the suit's backside, smashing apart its jet pack. O'Lar'shi immediately turned about-face and began unleashing all his firepower against the oncoming Orks, giving me ample opportunity to slip away. Against my better judgment, however, I didn't flee the scene entirely, instead lingering a short distance away if only to see whether O'Lar'shi survived the encounter (or more accurately, to ensure that he didn't).

Despite the stories I heard about the Tau being horrid close-quarter combatants, the Tau commander did an impressive job keeping the Orks at bay even when the greenskins got in close. Though lacking any sort of close-range weapon, the battlesuit had enough speed and mass to knock the Orks back when needed, giving him the time needed to fire off quick shots at close-range that even reduced the larger Orks into bloody stains across the grass. But with most battles against Orks, the mob was greater than the sum of its individual parts and while the battlesuit could quick dispatch individual Orks with ease, the numbers were slowly overtaking him. I couldn't help but smirk and imagine the sense of growing panic as the battlesuit started backing up, firing wildly at the advancing Orks, the few remaining thrusters on his jet pack sparking periodically in attempt to gain some altitude. There was no escape for him, however, but even when facing incredible odds he fought with savagery and tenacity. Most of the larger Orks were killed in the initial charge, leaving the weaker runts to try and whittle down the rest of his armour. The last big Ork was able to smash one of the battlesuit's guns with his hammer, though he was immediately blown with a point-blank rocket hit. The explosions detonated with enough force that even from my vantage points several meters away I was nearly hit by flying Orks chunks. Bullets continued rattling against the battlesuit's armour but to no effect other than to be answered with a blast from his plasma gun.

Against all odds, when the gunfire died down (relatively speaking) the Orks lay dead at the battlesuit's feet. Its armour was marred with deep gouges, cracked from repeated hammer strikes, and blasted by gunfire and explosions. The battlesuit merely stood there, most likely because the pilot was preoccupied assessing the suit's damage. I scanned the field of dead Orks for a weapon I could use and by the Emperor's will I spotted one of the Ork's crude rocket launchers. It was way too heavy for me to carry on my own so I lifted up the business end and propped the weapon up against one of the dead Orks. In hindsight, I should have just left well enough alone and left – the Tau commander was in no condition to pursue me and would've likely died whenever another batch of Orks arrived plus I had no assurance that the Ork weapon would still fire (and frankly, no Ork weapon looks like it should be able to fire in the first place). But I still had a score to settle with Shas'O Lar'shi. He owed me blood and I intended to collect.

O'Lar'shi must have heard me lugging the rocket launcher into position as the battlesuit suddenly turned towards me, plasma gun taking aim at me. I panicked and squeezed the trigger even before making sure the weapon was properly aimed, not that it mattered as the rocket streaked through the air straight into the battlesuit's chest and sending slabs of scorched armour in all directions. The battlesuit could take no more, it struggled to keep balance for a few seconds but gravity overpowered the machine and it fell back, crashing into what was left of the gazebo. I had hoped for a second explosion or for the battlesuit to burst into flames but I couldn't complain with the result. Still, I had no assurances that the pilot was dead so I had no choice but to investigate further. As I drew closer, the suit began to move once again, though not the limbs but what remained of the chest plates. A jagged, broken section of the frontal armour swung outwards, which answered my question as to whether the pilot lived or not. Once the suit opened up, I saw the weary figure of the Tau commander emerge from the wreckage. He had a pistol in hand but I had put the Tau in my crosshairs the moment I saw him so the second he raised his weapon I fired, hitting him in the shoulder and sending him toppling back inside the battlesuit.

When I took another step towards the wreckage, my foot tapped into something round and heavy, drawing my eyes towards my feet and the krak grenade that lay next to it. I picked up the grenade and continued on my way, stepping onto the wreckage to take a closer inspection. O'Lar'shi was still inside, slumped awkward inside the cockpit with a hole through his shoulder. When he saw me, he tried to grab his fallen pistol with his good hand, only to be shot through his other shoulder. He was crippled at my mercy. I could have given him a quick death but where was the satisfaction in that? Vengeance was something that needed to be savoured when it could for it came very rarely for most people. In the faceless masses of modern warfare, any one person you held a grudge against could be vaporized in an instant by a stray artillery round, a sniper's shot, or simply killed by in an offensive against another regiment. The individual soldier rarely got the chance to stare a hated enemy square in the eyes just as victory became assured, hence why most soldiers took their hatred out on whatever enemy they could find. Personal wars were rare when you're but a single soldier in an ocean of war but they are the most memorable moments. And I can truthfully state that I will never forget the way O'Lar'shi stared at me, not with fear or panic or hate…but stern resolution. He saw his death and he accepted it.

"You can never prevail against the Greater Good," he said defiantly.

"Right now," I said as I pulled the grenade's pin, "I'm content with prevailing over you."

I dropped the grenade into his lap and then ran like hell. As I watched the battlesuit detonate in a shower of metal and plastic fragments, I couldn't help but reflect on what I had just accomplished. How many people in the Imperium outside the Astartes could say they were solely responsible for the death of a Tau general? I lamented that there was nobody with me to share in that moment…because I knew nobody would believe me if I told them.


	21. TWENTY ONE

**TWENTY-ONE**

Though elated with my victory, there was no time to celebrate. O'Lar'shi's death brought about a rush of memories of Commissar Waffans. It was strange that despite it having been a recent occurrence, his death felt as though it was a long time ago. Perhaps the feeling stemmed from how much had occurred over the past few weeks. Before coming to Magnus Viridis I had imagined warfare to have been a rather straightforward affair – arrive on planet, kill the enemies. Instead, I got barraged with treason, conspiracies, alien spies, and enemies becoming allies and vice-versa so frequently I almost had to keep notes on whom I was or wasn't allowed to kill. I wondered if all military campaigns were as complicated as this or if it was just something that gravitated towards Commissar Cain. If I had any delusion that my career would get easier or less complicated from here on, I was sorely mistaken.

With the Tau commander dead, I returned to my original objective of running like a scared girl. I was smart enough to know that the exploding battlesuit would send up a huge banner screaming 'fun time's over here,' which every greenskin within 10 city-blocks would gleefully respond to. It was going to get very crowded, very quickly and for the good of my health, I needed to be elsewhere. "Watz, I need a sitrep," I voxxed while heading for the door leading into the eastern building. Unfortunately, it appeared that the eastern building was where the bulk of the palace defenders had holed up and the door appeared to be locked down firmly.

"Oh just the usual commissar," Watz replied, "Orks on one side, Tau and traitors on the other, and any chance of subtlety being thrown out the window by Garrick's shouting."

"Well how else are you going to hear him over the gunfire?" I quipped as I took step back to examine the door barring my path. "I…uh, appear to be having some trouble finding a way inside."

"Use that krak grenade you're always carrying around."

"I might have already used it," I said with an exasperated sigh. I tried kicking the door a couple of times but while it wasn't a ten-inch slab of armaplas, the door would need a lot more force than I had at my disposal. That realization, of course, didn't stop me from giving it a couple more kicks just out of spite, stopping only because I was beginning to hurt my foot. I was so distracted by my predicament that I failed to notice that the Ork problem started to manifest itself. The only thing that saved me from being flatten like a heretic under a titan's foot was the Ork's reliable and irresistible urge to shout when charging a target, alerting me to the impending danger. I spun around just in time to see the hulking figure barreling towards me and instinctively I dove to the side, snapping a few shots from my laspistol in the process. One of the shots struck the Ork in the leg, causing him to lose balance and fly ass-over-tea kettle into the door, knocking it and the entire doorframe from the building. "Never mind Watz, somebody opened the door for me," I said before hurrying inside, making sure to give the helpful Ork a quick shot to the brain for his troubles.

Once inside, the sounds of gunfire began to become muffled. The war had not progressed into this building,yet. And I suspected that things would get much louder the further I went. Wherever Cain and the others were, it was still a long distance from me. The door eventually led me to whatever appeared to be the main atrium given by the number of paintings, antiques, and decorative plates that adorned the walls and cabinets. My eyes drifted skyward to the large, circular skylight that hung directly over me. If only I had a grappling hook or a jet pack I could have reached the rooftops in a matter of seconds. It was also higly unlikely that an Ork would inadvertently toss me up there. With the gunfire no longer loud enough to completely drown out the rest of the world, I was able to pick up the sound of footsteps rapidly growing in volume. Those few extra seconds were just enough for me to take cover behind a support pillar as a squad of palace troopers emerged from a doorway on the far side. They were all heavily armed with hellguns and carapace armour, which meant they were kasrkins, or at least the inheritors of their position (and considering Gavilant's military prowess and loyalty to his unit, he likely made sure they were just as skilled as the stormtroopers he had with him decades ago when he captured the world ).

"Form a perimeter lads, the Tau need this area secured," the sergeant ordered as men dispersed across the atrium, taking up firing positions to cover all the entrances. Even with the element of surprise, I would likely only be able to take down one or two before being overwhelmed by sheer volume of fire…but I couldn't give up when I was so close to freedom. I took a few quiet breaths to steady my nerves. There was nowhere to go but forward…I resigned myself to the fact that I might have no alternative other than to go down in a blaze of glory (or hellgun fire in this case).

"Wait, I hear something!" One of the kasrkins shouted, causing me to tense up. Had I already lost the element of surprise, which was the only thing standing between me and total failure? I readied my laspistols but just as I was about to charge into the firestorm one of the guards suddenly screamed out.

"Merciful Emperor!" a kasrkin shouted before turning his hellgun on one of his fellow troopers and gunning him down with a prolonged burst. Needless to say, this instantly sowed confusion amongst the stormtroopers, two of which turned their hellguns on the apparent traitor. They didn't fire at first, for obvious reasons of loyalty and confusion, but when the 'traitor' kasrkin turned to fire on them, the others didn't hesitate to gun the first one down.

"What the frak was that?" the sergeant shouted before a bolt of energy suddenly hit him. The kasrkins were still confused but I realized what was going on just as Kael leapt from the shadows, decapitating the nearest stormtrooper before the others even realized he was there. Some sort of psychic energy shield protected the Eldar from the firing hellguns as he leapt from target to target, dispatching each with precise, lethal strikes from his sword, each one hitting a weak point on the troopers carapace armour. In only a few seconds, he had almost effortlessly cut down the entire squad of stormtroopers .

Foolishly, I thought I could take him down using the same element of surprise but I should have realized the timely intervention was no coincidence. No sooner did I swing around the corner with my laspistols ready he had already closed the distance. Flashes of vibrant blue light flashed before my eyes as his sword danced within his hands, the first two strikes quickly knocking the laspistols from my hands. My attempt at trying to get within his reach and attack unarmed was equally unsuccessful, his free hand batting my punches aside before hitting me across the face with an open-palm strike. So not only was Kael beating me, he was humiliating me in the process. Unfortunately, that just made me angrier, which made me even sloppier and before I could tell what had happen I was leaning against the wall with what I could only assume to be multiple palm-shaped red marks across my face.

"You're just toying with me," I muttered bitterly.

"No…open-palm strikes are simply an effective means of inflicting increased pain while minimizing lasting bodily trauma. I figured you would appreciate being able to walk seeing as you're in a hurry. Now toying you would involve this," he explained before suddenly swinging the blade at me with an upward stroke. The tip just narrowly missed drawing blood but split open my dress shirt down to the skin.

"You son of a bitch," I sneered as I instinctively clutched my shirt shut. He merely laughed, turned, and ran off without another word. Very rarely in my career would I ever be so thoroughly humiliated and I was thankful that none of the others were present to witness it. Angered beyond sound judgment, I quickly grabbed my pistols and gave chase as Kael dashed up the nearby stairs. "I'm going kill you Eldar!" I shouted. He was fast, which was to be expected, but rage and wounded pride hastened my pace and I was able to keep sight of him as I chased him up stairs and through corridors. Though I wasn't paying much attention, I'm certain that we passed several very confused palace guards along the way. Unfortunately, after several minutes of fruitless pursuit, I finally ran out of breath and lost sight of the bastard. I cursed bitterly between heaving breaths as I staggered to a halt. It took a moment for me to realize that I had absolutely no clue where I was in the building so now I was tired and lost.

"Commissar!" A familiar voice shouted. Turning about, I saw Cain and the others jogging down the hall towards me. Cain looked the most surprised to see me…actually, he was the only one since everyone else had masks, helmets, or were just unflappable. "Abel, what in the warp happened to you?" he asked.

"And how'd you get here before us?" Watz added.

"Uh…Kael," I said, still panting heavily. Once again I had trouble believing that this fortuitous encounter was a mere coincidence but speculation was pointless at the time. There was no time to further explanations as Garrick shouted for us to keep moving before loosing another burst of heavy bolter fire down the corridor at a pack of Orks. We hurried along, Heilmit shouting out directions as he continued to consult his dataslate. His directions eventually led us up another slight of stairs and yet another sealed door.

"Open up you blasted thing," Heilmit cursed as he tried to get the control console to cooperate.

Cain, however, was running out of patience and motioned for everyone to get out of the way. "Jurgen – door," he ordered. Without hesitation, his malodorous aide took aim with the melta gun and proceeded to vaporize a large portion of the door. We all hurried through, save for Garrick who had to carefully squeeze his massive frame through the opening. Everybody was relieved to be greeted with the sight of the parked aquila lander waiting for us on the far side of the rooftop. The sprawling rooftop was rather bare save for the large, circular landing pad on the far side, a few communication antennae, and the large skylight, which consisted of a shallow glass dome with etchings of various Imperial symbols across it. I imagined it looked quite spectacular when viewed from inside and on a sunnier day…and without the all-pervasive threat of death by Orks.

"Watz, get that lander started up," I instructed needlessly as Watz was already past the skylight and halfway to the aircraft.

"I'll need a few minutes to get the engines warmed up," he advised us as he opened up the main hatch and headed inside. Why did everything important always take a few minutes? The rest of us were left to ensure that the Orks didn't ruin things at the last moment.

"At least there's only got one way onto the roof," Heilmit remarked. Comments like those should only be uttered out loud with extreme caution since only a second later did we hear of roaring rockets…except they weren't the airship's.

Garrick was first to recognize the threat, turning the heavy bolter skyward and shouting, "Incoming!" Unlike guardsmen, who use sensible means of assault such as fire and advance, grav-chute airdrops, Valkyrie dropship insertions, scaling walls, and frag and clear, Orks assault with tactics that are as crude as they are direct. A dozen or so Orks with giant rockets strapped onto their backs were flying up and over the railings, wailing ecstatically as they landed with shootas firing as wildly as their shouts. We all turned our guns skyward and I was strangely reminded of some of my old target practice routines back at the schola. My best friend Verity used to smuggle out dinnerware and we would take turns tossing plates out at the old ruins. Hitting dinner plates through the Kriegan haze was tricky but feasible so hitting giant, green Orks on a clear afternoon was a walk in the park. A few Orks veered off-target or fell back to the ground after being hit, some even detonated as their rocket packs proved to be as unreliable and dangerous as they looked. Inevitably, though, some of the Orks landed and charged in, almost completely forgetting the gun in their other hand.

Garrick and Cain were the first to ready for close combat, moving quick to intercept the oncoming Orks. Power-axe and chainsword worked in unison, cleaving and hacking their way through greenskins and keeping the other Orks focused on them. Garrick, being the largest of us, attracted the most attention, which was exactly the way he preferred it. After carving through two Orks, he seized the chainsword from a third (with the rest of the Ork's arm still clinging to it). Cain was living up to his reputation as a master swordsman as well and while he wasn't as brutal as the space marine, he was just as lethal. The strength of the Orks mattered little as he masterfully parried and dodged each Ork strike, slashing and driving his chainsword across joints and into vital points until the Ork crumpled before him in a useless heap of flesh. I popped a few Orks in the head as they tried to get around to Cain or Garrick's flank but the number of Orks eventually forced me into close-quarters combat as well. A hefty-sized Ork rushed at me, howling so loudly my bones shook and globs of saliva splattered against my face and coat. Ducking under his chainaxe's broad sweep, I quickly drew out my shock maul and delivered a quick jab into his gut, followed by a rising blow to the jaw that left the Ork in spastic seizures on the ground.

"Watz, what's taking so long?" I shouted as my maul knocked a runty Ork's teeth out.

"I haven't touched a flyer in a long time, my memories a little rusty," he replied. I wouldn't have been so concerned about how long he was taking if we didn't have a dozen Orks swarming us.

"If I get killed out here I'm having you transferred to a penal legion," I replied. My eyes were pulled skyward when I heard the roar of another Orks' rocket and saw the behemoth crashing onto the rooftop a few feet from me. The near miss and force of impact caused me to lose my balance but I managed to keep enough composure to snap off a few shots. Unfortunately, all I accomplished was knocking the weapons out so he merely tried to kill me with his bare hands. I brought my legs up to try and keep him at bay but his sheer weight alone would overpower me. The greenskin almost had me when Heilmit came to my rescue, skewering the Ork's brain with his bayonet and then blasting a hole through its skull for good measure. "Impeccable timing Spike," I thanked as he helped me back to my feet.

We were almost finished cleaning up the Orks when we heard a loud engine firing up. The sense of hope that flared up was quickly dashed when we realized it was another Ork…and not just any other Ork; but a damn big one. Its echoing war cry drowned out all the others as the massive xeno landed on to the rooftop. The Ork towered over us all, its rocket pack was bigger than me, and it carried a hammer that made everything in our arsenal look as menacing as pointed sticks. It snarled and roared, slamming its massive hammer against the ground with so much force that the skylight nearby cracked in response.

"Emperor's blood, it never ends!" I cursed.

"Only with their death or ours," Garrick responded as he charged the massive Ork nob. But the Ork's speed proved greater than he had anticipated and the gigantic hammer swung out, smashing into Garrick and sending him hurtling across the rooftop. He bounced and skidded across the surface and would have tumbled over the edge had he not managed to dig his gauntlets into the rooftop surface to bring himself to a halt just at the edge. Heilmit and I snapped off several shots at the nob but they barely even shook its attention away from Commissar Cain. Being smaller than our Astartes ally, Cain was able to avoid the Ork's hammer, diving towards the nob and rising back to his feet with an upward slash that raked across its thigh. The wound barely slowed the Ork down as it backhanded Cain to knock him several feet back. I rushed in to help my fellow commissar, knowing full well that even a full-powered blow from my shock maul would barely stun the creature but if I could prove to be a distraction then it might tip the odds in our favour. A full-charged blow against the Ork's leg caused it to seize up, giving Cain time to get back to his feet before the hammer came down and obliterated the spot where he was moments before.

Enraged at my interference, the Ork swung fist and hammer wildly at me but I was too close and too small a target so I was able to avoid its attacks. When the nob tried to bring its hammer down on me, I dove between its legs and swung my shock maul upwards to smash it right in the nether regions though I doubt its dangly-bits were any more sensitive than the rest of its brutish body. Garrick joined the fight again and we were able to surround the nob but that didn't provide us with much of an advantage since the Ork weighed more than all of us combined. Unfortunately, with the hammer's range we had difficulty capitalizing on our advantage. Garrick would try to close in, only to have to back off to avoid having another meet n' greet with the massive mallet; when that happened Cain or I would try to rush in and get a strikes in but would never manage more than light superficial hits before having to back off ourselves.

It seemed as though we would be stuck in a deadlock when Watz suddenly chimed in on the vox. "Keep your head down guys!" he warned before the aquila lander's nose-mounted multi-las came to life and opened fire on the nob. The Ork took the full force of the rapid-fire lasbolts square in the chest, pounding it relentlessly while it flailed in attempts to break free from the barrage. Finally, the beast roared out loud and fell to the ground with a massive thud.

"Great work there Watz," I congratulated.

Cain edged closer, chainsword at the ready, to make sure that the nob was not going to get back up. However, he noticed, as did the rest of us, the small jet of flame that was spewing from the body of the jet pack and growing in intensity. "Shit! It's going to-" Cain didn't get to finish that sentence before the fuel tank exploded in a gigantic fireball. We were standing far enough away that we didn't get blown off our feet but Cain was sent stumbling across the rooftop and he collided with me. Anybody familiar with the concepts of conservation of momentum knows that if a large, slow-moving object collides with a stationary and significantly smaller object, the lighter of the two objects will be subjected to a greater change of velocity. Thus, though Cain only staggered, when he bumped into me I was knocked over and he came to a halt. This wouldn't have been very note-worthy except for the fact that I had been standing right in front of the fore-mentioned cracked and weakened skylight.

Cain saw this coming and he tried to reach out to grab hold of me but the only thing he could reach fast enough was the front of my shirt…which had been sliced open earlier. His grip should have been able to hold the fabric but instead the parted cloths slipped through his fingers and gravity took over from there. When faced the realization of his death, O'Lar'shi accepted his fate and maintained the stern and stoic gaze of a soldier. I only managed an undignified 'frak!' before falling through the glass dome and plummeting some thirty feet to the atrium floor.

I gradually returned to my senses to Heilmit's frantic shouting through my comm-bead. "Abel! For the Emperor's sake please say something!" As senses awoken, I realized a number of things: firstly, I was still alive since I was in far too much pain to be otherwise; secondly, I was laying on top of something very lumpy and uncomfortable. When I finally managed to force my eyes open once more, I could see light pouring through the broken skylight and a blurred silhouette of Heilmit peering over the edge. "Don't worry, we're coming to get you!"

As I slipped in and out of consciousness, I realized that I wasn't alone in the atrium. A Tau soldier was standing over me, shouting something in his alien language. Whatever he was saying, he sounded panic-stricken, probably something to do with having a woman fall from the sky and almost land on your head. Panic boiled into anger but before the Tau elected do anything about his anger, our seven hundred pound ceramite-clad killing machine used the Tau to soften his own landing. The Tau made a surprisingly satisfying crunching sound as the space marine's boots went through his skull…and spine…and pelvis.

"Commissar Abel is still alive," Garrick reported as he cleared the atrium of the remaining Tau with a sweep from his boltgun. "Bring the aquila lander out back."

"What the frak did I land on?" I groaned. Garrick didn't answer at first, focusing instead on getting me back up. It was a good thing that he could fling me around with one arm if he so desired because my back was seizing from the pain as he hoisted me up. Despite my insistence on walking out, Garrick wouldn't listen and lifted me off my feet, supporting me against his chest with one arm (something that hadn't happened to me since I was an infant). The sudden movement shot more pain up my back but any movement was killing me.

"Just a Tau," he finally answered as he headed out the door I had originally used to enter the building.. Once outside, the roar of the aquila's engines revitalized hope and would've blown my hat off had I not kept a hand on it. The airship hovered high overhead, drifting over to a clearing before landing rather ungracefully by flattening a row of hedges. With bullets and lasbolts rattling against the hull, Watz didn't wait for Garrick and I to be safely aboard before lifting off again.

Cain and Heilmit helped me down to the chorus of numerous profanities, setting me down on a stretch of seats that I noticed was being shared by the heavy bolter. "Why do we still have that?" I remarked when I noticed it next to me.

"Are you kidding? I'm mounting that baby on the centaur when we get back," Heilmit said ecstatically before taking a seat. The shuttle lurched as Watz switched from hover to flight and we were all finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. Given the state of the city, any vehicles leaving the city would not be seen as a threat to those focused on defending the city. Somewhere down below, the combined forces of the Cadian and Kriegan armoured regiments along with Kastaforian and Adumbrian infantry were beginning their assault on the capital city with orders to wipe out all resistance, xeno or otherwise. Major Currae himself, riding in the recovered Macharius battletank, led the assault. Most of the city was retaken in the first day, followed by almost a week of mopping up stubborn pockets of resistance. If the after-action reports were completely accurate, Currae and his crew destroyed no less than forty-two tanks and armoured vehicles in Aedans alone. There's still a statue of him in the center of Aedans, commemorating his 'liberation' of the city from the xenos and their traitorous cohorts. I found his memoirs detailing the events of Magnus Viridis slightly embellished his contribution to the campaign and barely made any reference at all to the efforts made by Cain or myself…or any of the other regiments aside from his 'heroic and stalwart Cadians.' In fact, I think I was only vaguely referenced once in his memoir as 'the pint-sized rookie commissar.' It just goes to show that not everybody took elevation to heroism with the same level of modesty and respect as Commissar Cain.

As for the Tau, when word of the Governor's death finally reached them, Colonel Kasteen and the 597th were already in position to meet their attack. While the Tau were concerned with the Orks, Kasteen had been subtly repositioning all of her gun emplacements so they were facing the Tau lines. Being hammered on two sides by humans and Orks, the Tau were overwhelmed and were routed in only a few hours. Unfortunately, the 597th were unable to give chase, as the folding Tau lines forced our troops into direct confrontation with the Orks, not that there were a lot of greenskins left by that point. According to the Cadians, the Tau fled like scared children back to the spaceport and began an immediate withdrawal back into orbit. Within a couple of days, the Tau had completely pulled out of the sector.

With the Tau gone and the traitor regiments either in ruins or full retreat, many considered the campaign to retake Magnus Viridis to be complete. Though the most difficult task of the campaign was complete, that didn't meant the fighting was over since the Lord-General (who was not among those who considered the campaign over) would not be content until the Orks were crushed and every last vestige of the traitor PDF regiments was captured. Thankfully, with the Tau having pulled out, the sector was safe enough to bring in reinforcements and fresh supplies, though regiments responsible for liberating Magnus Viridis would not be relieved for several months and would continue fighting Orks and traitor PDFs .

Some relief did come, however, but not in the form of Imperial Guards. Roughly a week after our 'raid' on Aedans, the Black Watch strike cruiser, Tempered Resolve, arrived in the system. The demise of an entire strike team made them swear vengeance against the Orks and traitors on the planet, drawing their assistance into purging the planet of their filth. Garrick returned to his company and was promoted to Brother-Sergeant for his valour. Though the Black Watch generally kept their operations limited to just their forces, Garrick made sure to extend an invitation to the 597th whenever he could. We had squads volunteering in droves to fight alongside the Black Watch marines to the point where Kasteen devised a lottery system just to be fair to the troops.

While there was still fighting to be done before we could consider our job finished, it was far less intense and a lot more straightforward than what we had endured thus far. I, for one, was relieved to leave the military thinking to the generals and colonels for a while and just focus on the simple tasks of maintaining troop morale and discipline. There was no need to run about gathering clues, investigating leads, or speculating through the night over a dozen cups of recaf.

There was still one thing left unresolved and I am certain you are wondering it yourself at this very moment – what of our Eldar instigator?

* * *

Now despite falling through a skylight and plummeting thirty feet, I came out of the ordeal in relatively good order. That is, if one can consider four cracked vertebrae, a broken sacrum, a dislocated shoulder, a fractured scapula, and a second-degree concussion to be 'relatively good order.' It was relatively good compared to the Tau I landed on, who was quite dead as a result of being smoked by a hundred and thirty pound meat sack. Cain pulled some strings with the Lord-General and got me placed under the care of his personal medicae staff, which meant the best around-the-clock medical care a person could get without being obscenely rich and an orderly who responded my call in no less than thirty-six seconds. I think Cain felt a little guilty about knocking me over the ledge.

I also got sponge baths from an orderly with eyes like sapphires and a smile that could make a girl think the Sanguinius himself was looking after you. Or at least that's how I remember my lengthy recovery. It's hard to say how accurate my memories of the events are considering the constant supply of painkillers the doctors gave me. Being shot in the back three times hurt like warp fire but at least the pain went away after a few days; breaking my back left it aching for months and there are still times when the pain comes back to remind me of the good old days.

While the doctors were able to patch me up fairly quickly, it would still be a few weeks before I get up to take a piss without cursing up a storm. The painkillers kept me in a tolerable mood, much to the delight of Watz and Heilmit who came by frequently to pass off dataslates and paperwork for me to kill time with. Even in a drug-induced haze, I was still competent to shuffle more dataslates for Cain and, as usual, it kept me busy when there was little else for me to do other than admire the view out the window from my bed.

It was about a week after our firefight through the Governor's palace that I awoke one morning to find an unexpected visitor from, if you hadn't guessed by now, our manipulative little Eldar. "'Hero of the Imperium, Commissar Cain, led a daring raid into the heart of the Governor's Palace in order to administer the Emperor's judgment upon the traitorous Governor,'" Kael said, reading from a dataslate as he sat across from my bed in an easy-chair. "'Though details are still coming in from the ruins of Aedans, survivors confirm that Commissar Cain that delivered the final blow, throwing the entire palace into disarray while Orks rampaged throughout the capital city.' The rest of the article isn't all that accurate but what can you expect from government-spat propaganda, hm? Still, congratulations are in order – you and your friends have reclaimed your world and you all played your parts wonderfully." My first instinct was to reach for the laspistol under my pillow but no sooner was it in my hand did I realize that it was a lighter than it should've been. "I already took care of that for you," Kael said as he held up a power cell. "I must say that was quite an impressive fight to freedom. I was half-worried that you weren't going to make it out of there at all."

"What do you want Eldar?" I sneered, half-tempted to shout for a guard even though I knew Kael wouldn't even be inconvenienced by it.

"Can't a person stop by to see how a friend is holding up?" he asked as though we were still on good terms with each other. "I'm relieved to see you are okay. If I had known you were going to fall through the skylight I would've put a mattress down below to brace your fall but the Tau Ethereal proved adequately suitable for the task."

"Ethereal?" I asked.

"Did nobody tell you?" he said with genuine confusion. He looked to the dataslate once again and read from it, "'Rumours persist that not only did Commissar Cain dispose of the heretical Governor but also assassinated the Ethereal Aun'Vre, who is a xeno that serves as a sort of political leader for the Tau. Witnesses report seeing an Astartes soldier and a commissar leaving the scene of where the Tau Ethereal was killed.' Apparently your plummeting backside broke not only the back of the Tau Ethereal but also that of the entire Tau military presence. It was a most surprising turn of events."

While it had been speculated that the Ork assault had resulted in the Ethereal's death and the Tau's sudden withdrawal, until then I hadn't the slightest reason to suspect that I had been directly involved in the matter. Apparently, our raiding party was the only one trying to escape the palace. "And I'm sure it was all a coincidence that he happened to be standing under the skylight at that moment," I said skeptically.

"While I might claim to read the skeins of fate and their convoluted paths, ultimately fate works on its own accord. I'm not that good m'dear." I wasn't wholly convinced of that but I decided against saying anything. There were a lot of questions that were nagging on my mind, questions that I had wanted to ask if I ever got the chance but now that the opportunity was there, I found myself reluctant to do so. I'm not sure if it was because I didn't want to risk making myself a threat to Kael…or because I didn't want to know what the answers might have been. Unfortunately, while words failed me, my thoughts didn't and Kael picked up on them. "You want to know why, don't you? Why all the tricks? Why all the games? Why you and your friends jumped through so many hoops for me? You don't need to be a psyker to know that's what you were thinking, it's written across your face. Can't blame you, really...that thirst for knowledge used to be a hallmark of your people. Orks never ask why, Chaos only asks what you want, and my people only ever ask how. That is something I like about you Abel…you're not afraid to ask why. In a galaxy where so many people are content just to accept things as they are, you seek the truth. And you're not afraid of anything that might stand in your way of it. Curiosity is a wondrous thing to have Abel, albeit a bit dangerous, but ultimately wondrous. With it…the universe opens itself to you. Never stop asking questions Abel, it will serve you well in the future."

"You still haven't told me why Kael," I reminded him.

"Oh right, the whys," he replied, sounding slightly embarrassed. "It should be pretty obvious to you. This planet belongs to the Eldar; we gave birth to it tens of thousands of years ago. Your people stole this planet from us and I intend to take it back. Of course, I had planned to simply wait for the Governor to die of old age and capitalize on the power instability that followed but the impending arrival of the Tau forced me to change my plans. The Tau are a useful tool but they're difficult to control. The only way I could get them to listen to me was to make it seem like I was giving them the planet. The Orks were simpler…attract them to the planet and let them do what they do best. With Orks and Tau besieging the planet, it was inevitable the Imperial Guards would be sent to retake the world. I had intended for all three of you to kill each other off…but amazingly, with a single shuffle of the cards, fate changed everything and an unexpected variable, a tiny but determined commissar, threw all my plans askew. For a moment I almost panicked – years of planning potentially ruined. You could not imagine how long I meditated in order to find a new path. It was actually kind of a thrill – the sudden chaos throwing everything out of alignment; using every ounce of will, strength, and speed to correct; fate itself practically challenging, pushing me to act harder and faster than ever before. Until your arrival Abel, I had almost forgotten what elation the witch path could bring. Unfortunately, all my meditations could not find me the path I desired, so instead I had to settle on the least destructive one…the one that would entwine my fate with yours. The Orks, left uncheck, would tear this planet apart until it was a muddy ball of filth and decay; the Tau would seek to develop this world into another grand city, destroying its natural beauty to put their own in its place; despite what I feel about your species, ensuring that this planet remained in the hands of the Imperium was the best outcome for it. Your people can at least appreciate its beauty and leave it relatively intact. If I need to wait another couple of centuries to take this world back, then I can live with that. Fate has closed a door for me but it has opened many new ones."

While his explanation seemed to put everything into one neat and tidy package, it left me with a nagging thought. At first I thought it might have simply been my inability to fully comprehend the Eldar. Why would an Eldar invest so much for the sake of one planet? And if it was so important, where were the rest of the Eldar? Why wasn't there an army ready to take the planet back by force? And even though he had time on his side, the life he was living on the planet suggested nothing of a man plotting to overthrow an entire planet's government. Finally, a thought crossed my mind, "This isn't about the planet…this is about her."

Kael fell strangely silent for a moment and I think, for a brief instant, I had actually taken him completely by surprise. He rose from his seat and walked over to the window, gazing to the rising sun in the distance. The horizon was painted in vibrant reds and purples, something I hadn't noticed despite the weeks and long days I had spent on the planet. The sunrise only lasted a few minutes on Magnus Viridis and this brevity only intensified its natural beauty. "Let me tell you a story Ariel…a story of a young Eldar from Alaitoc. He didn't care wars or fates or politics, he just wanted to make art and music. He would spend days in the grand spires just watching the world drift past him, dreaming of melodies your mind could not begin to fathom and would make your very soul dance. But his favourite place to find his muse was a maiden world called Mae-la ai'Isha where he could get lost in its vast jungles for months on end, accompanied only by his dreams. But like any good story, one day he met a girl. Her name was Naeyala and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in the galaxy. He was an artist and she was a warrior…they were from different worlds but that didn't stop him from trying to impress her. So he joined an Aspect Shrine and became a servant of the Bloody-Handed God. The pair fell in love. She showed him the art of death and he showed her the art of life. They were inseparable…he would take her Mae-la ai'Isha and they would disappear into the jungles together, alone only with their passions and their dreams. But one day he got wounded in battle and she realized that she couldn't stand the thought of him dying. She made him swear never to walk the path of the warrior again. He still wanted to help her, though, so he chose the witch path and became a seer. And like any important story then came the tragedy and he lost the one thing in the galaxy that mattered to him, first in mind and then in body. The seer succumbed to his rage but with it he became a powerful force to be reckoned with. His desire became obsession…a quest for redemption. But before his obsession could consume him entirely, his people transgressed him and he awoke from his rage. He realized that the reason she swore him off the path of the warrior wasn't because she was afraid he would be killed…but because she feared he would meet the same fate as her – that he would become lost to his obsession. Lost and confused…he left everything behind and went to the one place in the galaxy where he felt at peace..."

It was hard to fathom that somebody would go to such lengths to preserve a memory, to protect a memento that just happened to be a whole planet. But that might have just been something about the xeno mind that a human simply couldn't grasp. Then again, I had also never been in love and if it made people do crazy things, I couldn't imagine what it could do to a mind as complex as an Eldar's. "What did they do?"

"Somebody I had long trusted took her from me," he said, anger replacing the sorrow in his voice. "And for that there is no absolution."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Well Miss Abel, like it or not, our fates have become entwined and our only choice is to see where the path takes us. It will be difficult I have no doubt but sometimes the most arduous path is the only path that leads to salvation." The sunrise was finished, the sky now a crystal blue, and Kael headed for the door. "Take care Ariel Abel, we shall be crossing paths again in the near future."

"Wait," I called out just as he was about to leave. Oddly enough, he stopped though he had no reason to do so. I suspect it was partly due to that appreciation of my curiosity he mentioned because there was still a question on my mind. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about what happened to her."

"Sympathy from a human…you are full of surprises."

"I don't suppose you could tell me who you are; who you really are."

"Some days I don't even know that myself but my name is Kyriese." He glanced back to me and smirked slightly, "Never stop asking questions Ariel…and never forget who you are. It will keep you alive."

With that, Kael (technically Kyriese but I never could never stop calling him Kael) departed, slipping out of the medicae facility as easily as he had walked in. It was a testament to his abilities that he could stroll through our facilities with impunity. This was emphasized by the fact that Watz came in moments later completely oblivious to the fact that he had walked past the Eldar in the halls. I have never told anyone about that visit, I wasn't sure how people react to me having a casual conversation with the enemy. Less trusting people might have assumed I was in cahoots with the Eldar and I didn't trust my reputation to protect me even amongst the Valhallans. I had a lot of time to sit and think about everything that Kael had said and ponder the greater implications. As much as I wanted to dismiss what he said as the deceptive ramblings of the Eldar but my instincts told me that we would be crossing paths soon. In the end, I wasn't sure what was fact or what was fiction anymore. Lies, truths, and preconceptions blended together until it was one homogenous mass of words being thrown around for self-gain.

What I did know, though, was that I had managed to make it through my first deployment to the front lines. I came to this planet full of uncertainties and anxieties. I wondered if I had what was needed to survive on the brutal, unforgiving battlefield. Now I knew…and my world changed forever…

**_Final notes from the author:_**

_I think now is as suitable a time as any to draw this chapter of my life to a close. Though there were other memorable moments on Magnus Viridis, those are stories I will save for another time. Like the Cain Archives, I'm sure this will shake up some of the impressions my colleagues had of me. But I'm past the point of caring or apologizing for what I've done._

_The other Inquisitors can kiss my arse._

_

* * *

  
_

**Final Notes from the (real) author:**

I always find it hard to believe when I reach the end of a story. It always feels like yesterday that I started typing out the first words and now I have to put the final touches. I hope you all have enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it. I want to thank my fans for having made this my most successful fiction to date. Keep an eye out a Cain & Abel short to be released some time in mid to late May. Also, be sure to join our heroes in the second installment, Cain & Abel: The Hounds of Erebus, which I hope to have the first chapters ready some time in June.


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